


Weighted Blanket

by GuiltyPleasure1234



Category: X1 (Korea Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - College/University, Childhood Trauma, Feelings Realization, Flirting, Friends to Lovers, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Making Out, Pining, Referenced Minor Character Death, Slow Burn, Trust Issues, Wooseok goes through a few meltdowns im so sorry, Wooseok is an anonymous love letter writer, a lot of swearing cause i have a potty mouth, in the context of seungyoun's song "meaningless", minor yohangyul, or a failed attempt at humor idk you tell me, referenced suicidal ideation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:27:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 24,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27053398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GuiltyPleasure1234/pseuds/GuiltyPleasure1234
Summary: Prompt: Wooseok is an anonymous love letter writer for students who want to confess to their crush. It’s only a matter of time before he’s asked to write a confession to himself, though what he doesn’t expect is for the sender to be his childhood friend.
Relationships: Cho Seungyeon | Seungyoun/Kim Wooseok | Wooshin
Comments: 38
Kudos: 151
Collections: Flower Born From Fire Fic Fest





	Weighted Blanket

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, this was a beast to write (6 weeks, I think)! I've been reading fanfic for years but never thought I'd start writing it myself. And then guess what? Quarantine changed me. 😔 I got addicted to twitter and now write smut on the clock as I work from home. Go figure. (This fic is squarely T-rated though, so rest assured).
> 
> To the mods: thank you so much for running this fest as smoothly as you did!!! I'm really glad I decided to join. All the graphics looked amazing and I hope you are happy with how it turned out too. 🤍
> 
> To Ryn: Hey! You know this was for you in a few different ways right? Thank you for showing interest in it and encouraging me when I cryptically tweeted about it. :D Thank you for reading a draft and giving me the sweetest feedback ever. ;-; Thank you for inspiring parts of this fic 👀 and giving me idea for the title. I would write a sequel but every time I'm hit with gross cheesy thoughts, I just want to message you instead. 🧀 - your (not so) secret admirer

Dear Yohan,

How are you today? It’s me again, your secret admirer~ ♡

(Ahhh, I’m crossing my fingers that I’m the only secret admirer you have. :( Just in case I’m not, I’m the one who left a slice of matcha cake in the Taekwondo club changing room last week hehe.)

This morning, on the way to school, I walked past a pet store and one of the puppies, a poodle with light-brown fur, reminded me of you. I know it might be weird to say that puppies remind me of you, but there was just something about his bright earnest eyes that made me smile the same way I do whenever I see you around campus.

Also, Yohan-ah, congratulations on winning the gold medal at the annual Taekwondo championship!! You worked so hard for it. I hope you are able to get some rest now. I’m just so so glad that the championship went well overall and you didn’t injure yourself. Sometimes, I wonder if you are taking good care of your health, if you are getting enough sleep, if you are eating well.

I’m sorry that I can only reach you anonymously like this. I wish I can be by your side and make you smile. You deserve someone who isn’t afraid to tell you every day how much they care, and just how much you brighten up their day.

Until I gather the courage to come face to face with you, please always know that you are loved. And that there is someone who wishes you the best in everything you do.

Have a nice day! I’ll talk to you soon.

Love,

Your secret admirer

💌

**ANON**

Does this work, Lee Hangyul-ssi? Short and sweet?

**HANGYUL**

WOW

HOLY SHIT

HOW DO YOU DO THAT ANON AHDSKHFLJKSFK

it sounds so genuine and UGH sums up ALL MY UWU FOR HIM ;-; 

**ANON**

Thank you, I try. That would be 20,000W. You know where to send it! Glad to be doing business with you.

**HANGYUL**

:<

anything for love i guess

btw, do you srsly think that I’m a coward for doing this anonymous letter shit?

**ANON**

Hangyul-ssi, I only write letters on your behalf. I don’t give relationship advice. (Also, I guess I wouldn’t call my own business ‘shit.’)

((But yes, you should confess to him soon. This Yohan guy sounds like a catch.))

**HANGYUL**

...............................

ha ha coooollll

noted

anw appreciate yaaaaaaa

talk soon

💌

A ‘cha-ching’ notification sounds on Wooseok’s phone because _anything for love,_ indeed _._ He looks down to see the 20,000W freshly added to his KakaoPay, pockets his phone, retucks the white t-shirt into his blue jeans one last time before heading out, a muted yellow cardigan draped over his bony frame and a slice of toast dangling from his lips.

Wooseok wouldn’t say that he is at all qualified to do the job that he does.

In his 21 years of existence, despite the countless love letters that he himself had received, Wooseok has never dated anyone. In simpler words, Kim Wooseok, the prolific love letter writer with a 97.5% success rate, has zero experience when it comes to romance.

When he isn’t ghost-writing love letters for strangers on the internet, he is pursuing a degree in International Studies with a concentration in Economic Development. Last semester, looking at the number of electives he had left, Wooseok decided to add on a minor in Visual Arts. 

Why ghost-write for pining hearts, you asked? 

Kim Wooseok might be a bit of a rom-com junkie. He loves the push-and-pull, the heart-fluttering confessions, the do they/ don’t they that causes one to lose sleep at night. He likes romance especially where he isn’t involved. Count him out of it. Kim Wooseok is addicted to love only if love or adoration doesn’t involve closeness. 

Besides, who cares how much practical experience he has if he gets the job done? One of his rare middle-aged customers, Kim Minsung, in her review on Twitter, had called him a ‘lifesaver,’ a ‘storyteller that would put Nicholas Sparks to shame.’ (That post got over 100 likes from his other followers who mostly consist of former or prospective customers). 

It is a bit chilly out and Wooseok pulls his cardigan tighter around himself, daydreaming an outline for his upcoming midterm Macroeconomics paper. There is a slight spring in Wooseok’s steps this morning. He walks up the few front steps quickly and barely makes it before the elevator door closes. He scoots to the far corner, lifting his mouth and bowing politely at a grandpa who looks like he just got back from his morning walk.

Wooseok gets off on the 13th floor and finds himself in front of apartment 1304, rapping his knuckles thunderously. Seungyoun better not be sleeping still. Before he could fish out his phone, a thin high-pitched voice yells out in reply, croaky with sleep, “coming!”

The door flings open to reveal one Cho Seungyoun with hair looking like a wild bird’s nest, clear-framed glasses askew on his nose bridge, eyes fluttering like a curtain in the light Autumn breeze.

“What’s up, dude?” Seungyoun smiles dopily at him, lips pouting around the syllables. 

The boy in yellow cardigan rolls his eyes, “you have 10 minutes to wash your oily face and put on real clothes. Did you forget you have a meeting for your Bio group presentation at 10?”

“Oh shit, you’re right.” Seungyoun cracks a yawn large enough that Wooseok can see his tonsils, “knew I could rely on Wooseok-nim to keep track of my schedule for me.” Seungyoun stretches his lips into a foxy smile and opens the door wider to let Wooseok in.

“Brb~,” the tall boy walks to his bathroom with a towel over his shoulder, scratching his butt, steps too relaxed for Wooseok’s liking.

Wooseok takes in the scene before his eyes. Crushed beer cans litter the floor all the way from the coffee table to Seungyoun’s bedroom like breadcrumbs Hansel and Gretel had left out. Seungyoun must have had his musician friends over last night to work on their new song. He imagines Seungyoun’s rambunctious group of friends whom he is often too shy to talk to: Nathan, Jamie Park, and Zico hyung, a producer and rapper Seungyoun dated on and off for a short while; they all seem like nice people judging from the few times he had run into them.

After picking up most of the trash from the night before, Wooseok makes himself comfortable on Seungyoun’s couch. The smell of Seungyoun’s green tea shampoo wafts out; a soft singing voice hums an unfamiliar tune of a song in progress.

A thought enters Wooseok’s head and he hurries to the kitchen to prepare a sandwich. Seungyoun has classes back to back today; and being the sloth with no regards for self-care that he is, Seungyoun probably won’t remember to eat. It’s not that Wooseok enjoys babying grown men; he just can't deny the comfort in knowing that Seungyoun is hopeless without him.

“What cha doing, sweetheart?” The artificial green tea scent fills his nostrils and Wooseok leans back against Seungyoun’s sturdy chest, playing along.

“Oh, not much, just making sure you survive another day as always.”

“Mmmm,” Seungyoun nuzzles his wet hair in the crook of Wooseok’s neck, arms wrapping even tighter around his torso. “That’s hot.”

“Ugh, I know right? Survival is so sexy.” Wooseok moves around the kitchen with one Cho Seungyoun draping over him like a heavy blanket. Wooseok read somewhere that weighted blankets can lessen anxiety and improve mood. That probably explains why he always finds Seunyoun’s back hugs so comforting.

“Alright, I hope that was enough domestic role-playing for you today. Let go of me so we can get you to that study sesh on time.” Wooseok swivels around to see Seungyoun pouting at his remark.

The smaller man reaches up at Seungyoun’s wet hair, ruffling the dark strands, “did you wash your hair too? Why? Now you don’t have time to dry it properly. It’s chilly outside, you’re gonna get sick.”

“Relax, grandma. It’s sweater weather outside, I’ll be fine.”

Wooseok isn’t usually a violent man and if he punches Seungyoun in the gut as a reply, then it’s in fact Cho Seungyoun’s fault for being an insufferable little shit. 

💌

At first, Wooseok didn’t even know that his “business” would take off. Who writes _letters_ anymore? In the age of people sliding into each other’s dms, Wooseok was surprised to find that there was still a demand for something so analog as handwritten letters.

The first time Wooseok wrote a letter for someone was in high school. Somi, a girl he knew from Student Council, struggled to confess to her crush, Son Chaeyoung. Somi and Wooseok had gotten close after working on several projects together. One day, when Somi didn’t show up to Council meeting, Wooseok found her afterwards in an empty classroom, crying in the corner with knees up to her chest.

That night, Wooseok came over to help Somi write The Letter of The Century.

People have always told him that he has a way with written words. Straightforward but evocative prose, grounded but unexpected imageries, witty and genuine tone, that kind of stuff. Wooseok likes to think that he is proficient in capturing and conveying someone’s feelings. Translating the ‘uwu’s and keyboard smashes into coherent sentences, if you will. After successfully helping Somi confess to Chaeyoung, he was roped into writing more love letters for friends and then friends of friends. Wooseok figured he might as well charge for it. 

Writing letters for strangers turned out to be a much trickier thing than doing his close friend a solid. After years of providing his service and experimenting with ways of conducting business, Wooseok has built a rather sturdy system for himself to guarantee his effectiveness and absolute anonymity.

He created the @ConfessToYourCrush handle on Twitter and called himself ‘Anon’ because he is creative like that. When he first created the account, he came to some of his past customers and asked them to provide testimonials. He made a thread of people singing him praises. He also printed out little pamphlets and pinned them up on notice boards around Seoul University and other schools in the vicinity. It was only a matter of time before customers started rolling in.

“Kim Wooseok, you’re such a bully.” On the way to school, Seungyoun talked his ears off about the gun tattoo the taller boy got on a whim last weekend.

“A bully? Just because I care enough about you not to lie to your face?”

“But you _are_ lying though! How dare you deny that my gun tattoo is sexy as hell?”

What is wrong with Cho Seungyoun? Why would he pull up his shirt in the middle of the street and ask Wooseok to ‘feel [his] gun’?

“Since ‘it looks okay~’ is a grave understatement, you must either be sorely mistaken or lying to the both of us.” Seungyoun is huffing and stomping and pouting now and Wooseok is a little embarrassed.

“My dear friend Kim Wooseok is, more often than not, a man of taste.” Seungyoun’s eyes dart upwards in thought, “so you must be lying.” He narrows his eyes and inches closer to Wooseok in faux intimidation, “the question that remains is: what for art thou lying to thyself?”

Sometimes, Wooseok is amazed that Cho fucking Seungyoun and him are best friends. How do two people so different from one another get along so well?

A wise one once said that introverts don’t make friends. They get found, liked, and adopted by extraverts. And that might have been exactly what happened.

“Since when do you speak Shakespeare?”

“I’ve always been smart. You just never noticed.”

“I never said ‘smart.’ Just because you quote the Western canon doesn’t mean that you’re smart.”

“Damn, what’s up your ass?”

“Not you.”

Perhaps Wooseok is making _himself_ blush by throwing around suggestive remarks like that. Perhaps not.

Blame Cho Seungyoun for getting a fucking gun tattoo that points towards his crotch and _then_ asking Wooseok to provide thoughts on it. Here, you can feel it too, he said.

“And that makes me cry myself to sleep every night,” says The Biggest Flirt in Town. Wooseok really should have known better than to play this game with Cho Seungyoun.

The barista with curly brown hair calls out for Seungyoun to pick up his Iced Americano. “Thanks, Hyeongjunnie! Okay,” Seungyoun speaks in pout, “I’m gonna get to the Science building now, before my group mates blow up my phone.” He gives Wooseok a side hug then leaves.

Wooseok picks up his own coffee and goes sit by the window. His first class of the day, Globalization and Cultural Export, isn’t until 11 am. In the meantime, he sips on his Iced Lavender Latte and scrolls through social media.

Back in seventh grade, if anyone had told him that the new lanky kid who transferred from Brazil after concluding a soccer scholarship would go on to become his closest, most important friend, Wooseok would have laughed.

For one, seventh grade Cho Seungyoun talked a _lot._ Everything about Seungyoun then felt like too much. Too sociable, too smiley, too sweet, too funny, too flirtatious.

Perhaps not much has changed. Cho Seungyoun, fourth year Music Production major, captain of the school’s soccer team and relatively well known Soundcloud rapper, is everything Wooseok is not. Without exaggeration, the boy is everyone’s and their mother’s favorite person. Seungyoun is literally rainbows and sunshine in human form. Two weeks after Seungyoun’s arrival, Wooseok begrudgingly softened up to the boy’s innocent smile and the rest is history.

A Twitter notification pops up on his phone. A new direct message request. New customer.

Ah, there is one thing Cho Seungyoun doesn’t know about him: his moonlighting as an anonymous modern-day Cupid.

Wooseok swipes open the notification:

**WOODZ**

hey r u that person who writes love letters for others?

im in love with someone and i need help confessing to that person

_Woodz? That name sounds almost familiar._

**ANON**

Yup, you have the right guy. How can I help you? Who is your crush?

To be completely honest, Wooseok has no idea why he decided to hide this side hustle from Seungyoun, his best friend of nearly ten years. He knows that Seungyoun would never judge him for it. Perhaps Wooseok wanted something just for himself. Sometimes, there is that feeling that prevents Wooseok from being fully known to others, even Seungyoun. Besides Wooseok’s profession as a letter writer, there isn’t a single thing that Seungyoun doesn’t know about him. Wooseok is extremely introverted and prefers to keep a small social circle. He jokes to Seungyoun sometimes that he probably can’t handle more than one friend at a time. And Seungyoun would in turn clutch at his chest dramatically, cooing ‘what the fuck’s and ‘I love you too, bro’s at Wooseok.

**WOODZ**

uhhhh,,, well, haha

kim wooseok

u might know him? the cute small guy from INT?

And here it is again. 

Wooseok has to relax into his seat and brings a hand up to massage his temples. A weird quirk about his work is that he is asked to write love letters to himself _at least_ once every two months. And ironically, Wooseok himself is the reason why his success rate is not 100%. Every single person coming to him with a pining heart for Kim Wooseok would walk away with disappointment. 

You might think that makes Wooseok a choosy and arrogant prick who thinks he’s too good for anyone. But to put it simply, Wooseok doesn’t think he is deserving of love.

Sometimes, he feels a little broken. For as long as Wooseok can remember, romantic interest from anybody would throw him into a fit of panic. Perhaps at his core, Wooseok can’t stand disappointing others. With a pretty face like his, people look at him and create fantasies in their head. How disappointing would it be for them to find out just how ordinary and unremarkable KimWooseok is? 

So he sticks to a carefully crafted public version of himself.

The only exception to this rule might be Cho Seungyoun. Cho Seungyoun is safe because he has been there since the beginning, has never expected anything from Wooseok, never wanted anything more from him than just himself. With Seungyoun, Wooseok can show up unprepared, unguarded, absolutely carefree.

**ANON**

Hm, I don’t think I know him. Shouldn’t matter though. You can tell me all about him and I’ll help you convey your feelings!

Here’s how this usually goes. Every time a poor soul comes to Wooseok asking him to write a letter to himself, Wooseok would agree as to not raise any suspicions. He goes through the motions of listening to them gush about him. He pays special attention to what they say they like. Is it his ‘good looks’? His singing voice from that one time he performed a song Seungyoun produced? His aloof attitude that ‘pulls you in’? His small, slender physique that ‘arouses one’s protective instinct’? Sometimes, people go as far as to describe their sexual fantasies they have about him _to_ him.

Whatever it is, Wooseok writes a letter as good as any. The letter naturally gets to the intended recipient. The confession never yields success. 

**WOODZ**

sounds good~

im super grateful for your help dude 😭

whats the next step?

💌

Wooseok is at his kitchen island finishing up his dinner before meeting with the new customer, Woodz. Two minutes before the scheduled call time, Wooseok shoves the last of the turkey sandwich into his mouth, reaching behind the laptop for the water pitcher.

The Skype incoming call ringtone sounds from his laptop.

With his mouth still full and a pitcher in one hand, Wooseok answers the call, camera off and microphone muted.

“Hello?” a voice sounds from the dark screen. 

Wooseok is frozen in his tracks, water overflowing the glass he was in the middle of filling. His heart starts to pick up and a sense of dread quickly fills from head to toes.

“Hello?” the voice repeats and Wooseok swallows his food in a hurry, fingers flying to the keyboard. Wooseok pushes the uncanny feeling back down and reminds himself that he is _working._

**ANON**

Hi. Sorry. I was grabbing water.

“Oh no worries,” his customer giggles and Wooseok feels like the whole world is crashing down on him. This voice. He knows this voice.

The familiarity itself isn’t what confuses him. Classmates, acquaintances, even friends unknowingly come to him for his service sometimes. Last year, Jinhyuk, his deskmate from Intro to Political Economy, came to him for a letter to his crush, Byungchan, whom Wooseok _also_ happens to know. Byungchan and Wooseok became friends when they both got nominated for the Heartthrob Award at the university-wide annual Spring festival. They both ended up losing to Cha Eunwoo but that’s a story for another day.

When Jinhyuk came to ‘Anon’ with his pounding heart and excited ramblings, Wooseok was endlessly endeared. It warmed his heart to know that he played a huge part in Jinhyuk’s and Byungchan’s eventual relationship that lasts until this day. So people he knows coming to him shouldn’t faze him at all.

“Oh, wait, sorry, should I turn my camera on?” his customer laughs easily. “I should have both my mic and camera on. You type into the chat. That’s how this works right?”

When Woodz shows up on screen, Wooseok suddenly forgets how to breathe.

“Uh, hi.” Smiling awkwardly on screen is no other than Cho Seungyoun. His best friend. His ride-or-die. The peanut to Wooseok’s jelly. No wonder the name Woodz sounded familiar. It was the name of Seungyoun’s first Soundcloud account in middle school.

His brain is having a hard time catching up to what this means.

Here Seungyoun is, unknowingly asking Wooseok to write a love letter to himself.

Cho Seungyoun wants to send Wooseok a letter. 

A love letter.

Cho Seungyoun has a crush.

On him.

Cho Seungyoun has a crush on him?!??

CHO SEUNYOUN HAS A—

“Hello?”

_Fuck._

**ANON**

I’m here! Yup, that’s right. You’re doing it right!

“Oh, thank god.” Why does Seungyoun have to smile so prettily like that now? “Sorry, this is a bit awkward. Feels a bit like I’m, I don’t know, talking to myself?” the man _bounces_ in his seat and Wooseok has to tell himself to focus. 

**ANON**

Sorry that this is awkward for you! I just want to make sure I stay anonymous, you know?

On screen, Seungyoun can be seen reading the chat box attentively, nodding along, biting his lower lip. “Yeah... yeah I really get that.”

**ANON**

So.

Luckily, Wooseok prides himself on how well he works under pressure. With shaking hands and cold sweats, he perseveres, pushing the conversation along while trying to make sense of the rupture this has caused to his life.

**ANON**

You said your crush was Kim Wooseok right? Tell me more.

“I—,” a blush creeps up Seungyoun’s cheek as he fumbles over his words. He looks down to his lap, the corners of his mouth twitch. “Wooseok is, oh man, I don’t even know how to, I just, don’t have the words!!” His eyes disappear into crescents as he lets out a hearty laugh. “Okay, let’s see… There’s just… I like everything about him. It’s just the way he makes me _feel._ ”

Wooseok is thoroughly confused. On multiple levels. What the hell does that mean? What feelings? This is why Seungyoun had to look for a ghost-writer for god’s sake. The gnawing insecure voice inside him injects an ugly disbelief that spreads to every crevice, resenting the unbridled puppy-dog-look Seungyoun is sporting. 

**ANON**

Okay. When did you start liking him?

Seungyoun looks deep in thought for a while. Wooseok almost asks again in the chat to make sure Seungyoun isn't having internet issues. Before he could do so, Seungyoun speaks up with absolute conviction, “I don’t think I ever _not_ liked him.”

_What._

“I don’t think—so, Anon,” Seungyoun laughs a little, perhaps at the ridiculousness of calling someone ‘Anon’ out loud. “You know when you fall in love with someone so seamlessly, you just, can’t pinpoint the exact moment anymore?”

No, Wooseok doesn’t know. But he doesn’t want to give away the fact that he, the acclaimed love letter writer, is clueless when it comes to love.

**ANON**

Yeah, I guess?

“Yeah. Yeah! So, we’ve been best friends for like, almost 10 years. And it’s like, the moment that you realize? You start to look back at all the signs. All the, the, indescribable, incomprehensible bodily reactions you’ve had to them in the past. And go ‘Wow. So that was love. My body _knew_ it was love before my brain could catch up to it.'"

Wooseok is positively stunned. His brain keeps going ‘what does he mean ‘love’? what does he mean his body knew’?. Wooseok suddenly feels hopeless. He deliberates on what to do next. He could confess to Seungyoun right now that he is Anon. He could turn on his camera, his microphone, and reveal to Seungyoun that he is in fact who Seungyoun is trying to confess to. That would be awkward, but at least he won’t be hiding anything from Seungyoun. He’s always hated having to sneak around and lie about what he’s doing when he had to cancel on Seungyoun last-minute to write letters in the past. If he tells Seungyoun now, maybe Seungyoun would be embarrassed enough about the whole thing to _want_ to move on from this crush.

Wooseok is certain it isn’t anything serious. Let’s face it. Wooseok is pretty. It is natural that Seungyoun, a man with aesthetic appreciation, would develop an innocent crush on Wooseok because of how pretty he is. Seungyoun might call it ‘love’ but he’s just being dramatic as always. And it is perfectly normal to feel the Feels about your best bro occasionally, is it not?

“To be honest, I feel like ironically, the best friend status is holding me back.”

Wooseok’s fingers hesitate on the touchpad, the cursor only a hair away from the unmute button.

The cursor doesn’t move.

“You know how people go to masquerade balls to be someone else for a night?” Wooseok doesn’t know if it’s the lighting or something else, but Seungyoun’s eyes are sparkling. “I realized I needed to put on a mask to give myself courage.” Seungyoun pulls at his sleeves and Wooseok wonders if sweater paws had ever looked so cute before.

Seungyoun thinks his ‘best friend status’ is holding him back? From what? Is being best friends not enough for Seungyoun? Wooseok doesn’t know what it is that fixes him in place. Curiosity, maybe? A kind of twisted fascination that compels him to take advantage of the power he’s suddenly found in his possession? 

A part of Wooseok feels betrayed.

His best friend of almost ten years just told him that he feels stifled by the ‘best friend’ label. 

Wooseok had thought Cho Seungyoun was safe. That with Seungyoun, Wooseok was always enough. There was nothing else Seungyoun needed from him that he failed to live up to. 

“So I thought, if I send Wooseok secret letters, I don’t have to be so constantly aware of my limits as his best friend. I can tell him how good he looks in the sunlight, how much I want to kiss him all the fucking time, how endearing his windshield wiper laugh is, that kinda stuff, you know?”

If Wooseok isn’t reeling from the wave of anger and confusion and dread and fear, he would be annoyed that Seungyoun is pointing out his laugh. _Again._

Seungyoun inhales deeply and peers at the camera with sincerity.

“I want to express all the love I have for him without constantly feeling like I’m acting out of bound. And hopefully, this will prepare me to confess to him for real.”

So this is practice. 

Seungyoun wants to start with silly notes dropped surreptitiously in Wooseok’s locker, on his desk, passed along by classmates. 

Before he ‘[confesses] to [Wooseok] for real.’

Before he irrevocably ruins their would-have-been lifelong friendship.

Wooseok can’t let that happen. 

He has to stop this in its tracks.

Later on, when Wooseok looks back at this moment, he will hate himself for breaking the deep trust they have built for years. His skin will crawl at the knowledge that he has chosen to watch the most important person in his life flounder and fall, to play God with Seungyoun’s feelings.

On screen, the apples of Seungyoun’s cheeks are still high and tinted pink.

💌

The next morning, Wooseok doesn’t pick Seungyoun up like usual.

_I’ll be in the library all day to work on my midterm paper. Couldn’t focus at home._

Wooseok usually prefers to write papers in the comfort of his humble abode, snug in his thick blanket, a hot beverage by his side. He wonders if Seungyoun clocked the illogic of his lie.

“Wooseok hyungnim!”

Speaking of the devil.

Seungyoun’s sugary sweet voice pierces across the large stretch of grass, all the way to where Wooseok is standing to fill up his water bottle. Wooseok mentally steels himself because he is Not Ready to face Seungyoun after last night and the taller boy, being the leech that he is, only calls Wooseok ‘hyungnim’ whenever he needs something.

“What do you need?”

“Hyungnim,” Seungyoun coos, “have you finished the algebra homework for today?”

This semester, Seungyoun and Wooseok have one class together and that is Advanced Algebra. They both needed a Math class to fulfill their general education requirements and that was the only one that worked with their schedules. 

Wooseok doesn’t have the energy for Seungyoun’s puppy-dog-eyes today, “yes, I have. And no, I won’t let you copy it.”

“But why not? It’s not like anyone’s gonna know. It’s Math. Everyone is _supposed_ to get the same answer.”

“Seungyoun, last time you copied my Math homework, you changed all the ‘θ’s into 0s.”

“That’s only because you have chicken scratch handwriting. And what the fuck is a ‘θ’?”

Wooseok really can’t do this today. He really can’t. After last night, he almost doesn’t know how to act around Seungyoun. If he was feeling guilty about hiding his side hustle from Seungyoun before, imagine how he feels now.

“Okay, fine, whatever. Do what you will. I won’t take any responsibility if you fuck up again,” Wooseok grabs the yellow legal pad where he wrote out the answers to this week’s assignment and shoves them in Seungyoun’s direction, refusing to make more eye contact with Seungyoun than neccessary.

“Oh my god, fuck! You’re the best, Wooseokie.”

And perhaps facing away from Seungyoun was a bad idea.

Because before he can even reply, Seungyoun places a loud wet smack on his cheek. 

_Seungyoun just kissed him._

Clearly, Seungyoun wasn’t trying to evoke a response from Wooseok. Because he coolly walks away, hollering over his shoulder, “thanks, bestie! I’ll return your notepad in the evening! Dinner’s on me.”

Seungyoun might be waving goodbye. He might be skipping across the grass humming a tune. He might be tripping on a rock and die.

Who knows. 

Not Wooseok.

Because Wooseok freezes like a statue in place for a long long time, replaying the wet smack in his head.

💌

Dear Wooseok,

I think you’re really fucking cute. 

Especially when you jut out your lower lip in a pout and look like a small, angry kitten. Sometimes, I just want to place kisses all over your face. :P Have a nice day today and I’ll see you around~

Love,

Woodz

💌

**WOODZ**

I DID IT ANON I DID IT AKXZNVJLKKSALDFKALD 

Earlier today, Wooseok showed up to Figure Drawing to find at his station a handwritten note and a bar of white Toblerone, his favorite. The content of the note he knew by heart. The chocolate was a rather nice touch on Seungyoun’s part. _Not bad._

**ANON**

Lol how did you feel afterwards?

“I felt really fucking great.” Seungyoun shows up on screen, cheeks flushed and dimples showing. “Sorry, heh, had to put a shirt on first before I turned on the camera.” Seungyoun is visibly glowing today.

“Anon, I, uh,” Seungyoun’s face gets even redder for some reasons, “you know how you wrote in the letter about placing kisses on his face?”

Wooseok does know. What he doesn’t know is _why_ he did that in the first place. 

All he can say is that it’s a staple line. Telling someone the things you want to do with them, the things you want to do _to_ them, the things they make you feel. A good love letter is one where you make the object of your affection understand vividly how infatuated you are.

“Well, I might or might not have done that. To him. In real life.” Seungyoun is looking down at his lap now, a snapback concealing how red and giggly he is. The “1971” and “1966” tattoos peek out from underneath the hem of his sleeves, drawing attention to his toned biceps. Wooseok is hit with an incredible urge to run his fingers along those numbers.

**ANON**

??? Do what? Kiss his face? Oh my god, when?

Look at Wooseok go. What a pro.

“Like, this morning,”

**ANON**

Was that the first time you ever kissed him?

Wooseok knew it was not the first cheek kiss and probably won’t be the last. Seungyoun is touchy and affectionate with all of his friends. 

“No… but it felt different. Especially with the love note, it felt less platonic and more like… I’m flirting with him.” Seungyoun is full-on _fanboying_ , fingers covering his flushed face as he whines.

Thank god Wooseok lives alone. Because he lets out a loud gorilla-level groan at the word ‘flirting.’ Wooseok can’t do this, he really can’t.

So off to a new topic he goes.

**ANON**

What kind of person is Wooseok? I feel like I need a better idea of who he is to be able to write to him.

So fucking smooth. This 1) solidifies that Anon and Wooseok are Not At All the same person and 2) always helps him nail exactly what his customer loves about their crush.

“Hmm, let’s see, Wooseok is… full of contradictions.” Seungyoun’s eyes crinkle at that. “We met in seventh grade when I transferred to his school. We were desk mates and he _hated_ me,” the boy’s whole frame is shaking with laughter, “I was so excited to make friends! I was chatty and that _really_ annoyed him. Wooseok used to sit at the back of the classroom, always next to the windows.”

He must admit that it is fascinating to hear Seungyoun describe the early days of their friendship.

“And then, the first time he ever loosened up around me, I felt like my heart was gonna stop.” The boy on screen has his knees pulled towards his chest now, long legs fitting snugly on the small swivel desk chair. “I’m serious. I don’t even remember what joke I told that made him laugh so hard. He was just… _stunning_ and I got nervous and pushed him off his chair. Wooseok had to wear an arm sling for a month.”

Wooseok scoffs at the memory. He remembers the way Seungyoun couldn’t look at him afterwards. He’d always assumed that it was because Seungyoun felt guilty for spraining his arm.

**ANON**

How does Wooseok feel about you? Is there any chance your crush will be reciprocated?

And as expected, that question immediately dampens Seungyoun’s rosy mood. Wooseok silently curses at himself for killing his best friend’s giddiness at the snap of a finger. 

“You know, I have thought about it. About whether or not Wooseok would like me back.” Seungyoun’s lips tighten into a line in thought. “And I decided that it doesn’t matter.”

_What?_

**ANON**

You mean it doesn’t matter whether or not he reciprocates your feelings?

The taller boy lets out an innocent laugh. The bright timbre of Seungyoun’s voice twists at Wooseok’s chest. “I mean, I know that he loves me. As a friend. Wooseok doesn’t let many people in. I’m just so grateful to be someone he trusts and cares for.”

Wooseok is awestruck.

He’s helped a lot of people confess to their crush. Heck, he’s “helped” a lot of people confess to him. There are so many things one could feel about confessing to their object of affection. Some are desperate to be noticed, to be reciprocated. Some are hopeless, deciding that they need to confess before they could move on. Some are excited about the prospects of having their feelings returned. 

But the quiet contented way Seungyoun is smiling right now is something he hasn’t seen before, like just the _thought_ of Wooseok makes him happy, like it doesn’t matter what Wooseok is able or willing to give him. It is the fact that Wooseok is giving him any ounce of affection at all that makes it worth it, makes the precariousness of loving worth it.

(Granted, Wooseok doesn’t always ask his customers to think about the perceived probability of their success. Because that’s not really his job. His job is to deliver the message to the best of his ability. Whether they get together with their crush or not is none of his concern.)

**ANON**

So why confess at all? Why try to communicate that you see him more than a best friend? If it doesn’t matter to you whether or not he feels the same way?

Wooseok is intrigued. He wants to open Seungyoun’s mind like a lid and peer inside.

“Because… it’s the truth.” Seungyoun is looking away from the screen now, working this out in his mind as he speaks.

“I want to be completely honest with him.” Seungyoun says simply, like it’s the only satisfactory answer there is. “Love is a beautiful thing. Why _wouldn’t_ I want him to know?”

_Because I don’t know how to receive love? Because love is the scariest thing in the world?_

**ANON**

Do you think Wooseok would be happy to know about your feelings?

At that, Seungyoun looks a little sad again. 

“I think it might scare him. Wooseok gets in his head sometimes when it comes to intense feelings.” Seungyoun’s eyebrows knit together, his fingers twiddling an invisible thread, “I guess I just want Wooseok to know that he is not hard to love. And that he is not incapable of loving.”

💌

**WOODZ**

you know anon..........

wooseok’s voice

**ANON**

What about his voice?

It is a cloudy Wednesday afternoon and Wooseok just got out of Macroeconomics. He’s seated on a window ledge, sipping on his Iced Latte and, for God knows why, re-reading his direct message exchange with Seungyoun from the night before. 

**WOODZ**

it so sexc 🥺🥺

**ANON**

???? sexy???

**WOODZ**

fuck yes,,,,

ok not to be nsfw but i’d definitely gotten **** before thinking about it

He’d bet anything that his face is almost as red as the sweatshirt he is wearing right now. Wooseok brings the iced drink against his cheeks in hope the cool condensation can calm him down.

**ANON**

...........

This is the moment I block you for being inappropriate. It’s been nice knowing you, Woodz-nim. 😔

**WOODZ**

SJFKnakscaslkfjc

what??

im a grown man with needs

**ANON**

You hire me to write letters. I’m not paid enough to put up with this shit.

**WOODZ**

oh shit ur right lmaooooo

sorry anonnie <3 

i just don’t have anyone else to talk to about my ws Feelings 🥺🥺

its been rlly nice talking to u

you’ve really validated how i feel towards ws so thank you 😊

however the letters turn out, i am gettin my money’s worth for sure <3 <3

**ANON**

You got it

**WOODZ**

Anon,,,, I really think that we vibe

It would be nice to become friends too irl

So,,,, ig you know where to find me if you ever decide you wanna be my friend 👉 👈

“Being friends,” Wooseok laughs humorlessly. “I thought _you_ didn’t want to be friends.”

“Who didn’t?”

A soft voice whispers into his ear and Wooseok jumps, his whole body slamming into the window pane on his left.

“Oh my god, dude, I’m so sorry,” Cho Seungyoun takes a step back, hands rubbing together in apology, “I didn’t think I’d freak you out.”

Wooseok’s first coherent thought is that Seungyoun’s woody cologne smells really good.

And that is not a thought he would like to have at all.

“What were you so focused on anyway that you didn’t see me coming?” With hands shoved into the pockets of his sky-blue hoodie, Seungyoun is now leaning back on his heels, narrowed eyes scanning Wooseok’s guilty face.

“Nothing.”

“Uh huh. Didn’t _seem_ like nothing.”

“Leave me alone, asshole. Why are you here anyway? Aren’t you supposed to be in class?”

“My Music Theory class got cancelled this morning cause the prof had a last-minute gig come up.”

“Musicians, am I right?”

“Ugh, the fucking worst.”

Cho Seungyoun doesn’t bother asking Wooseok for permission before he squeezes his large frame onto the window ledge, pushing Wooseok even further against the pane.

“What is my favorite friend up to today? Did you just get out of Art class? How’s Art going? Do you need a model? Do you want to draw me nude?”

Seungyoun is like a big Shiba Inu coming up to sniff and lick his favorite human, tongue lolling out in excitement and tail wagging. Wooseok forces out a grumble to quell the way his heart leaps in his chest.

“It’s fine. We have models coming in for live drawing sessions so fortunately, I can’t take you up on that. Also, stop calling me your ‘favorite friend,’ that’s so embarrassing. Are you in 2nd grade?”

“Oh, I’m sorry?” the big dog tilts his head, eyebrows disappearing underneath his fringe, “It would be embarrassing for you. Since I’m your only friend.”

“Ha ha, funny,” Wooseok wiggles in place, trying to get comfortable being sandwiched between Seungyoun and the windowpane. Wooseok hasn’t been picking Seungyoun up in the morning and he misses his best friend. He silently curses the Cho Seungyoun dry spell _he_ put himself in.

“By the way, are you doing anything today after class?” Now that Anon has gotten into the groove with Woodz, Wooseok sees no point in keeping Seungyoun at arm’s length. In other words, he now feels more or less at ease with going behind and actively sabotaging his best friend’s love life.

You say Kim Wooseok is a man of no morals. He says that Kim Wooseok is an expert in compartmentalization. To-may-to to-mah-to.

“Hm? I don’t have anything immediately after, but, uh,” Wooseok can see the gears turning as Seungyoun’s eyes dart to the side and his lips protrude in concentration. _Cute._ “I might have something later at night. Like, at 9 pm.”

Wooseok knows. Because he has a thing at 9 pm too. Anon and Seungyoun are having a meeting on Skype to discuss the next letter. “Yeah, that’s fine! Should be done by 7 pm ish anyway.”

“What do you need?”

“You know that Globalization and Cultural Export class I’m taking for my major electives?”

“Sure, maybe, vaguely.”

“Yeah I’m writing a paper on theme parks.”

“…What?”

“I gotta collect some quantitative data. A quick survey thing with theme park goers, you know.”

“…What the fuck?”

“What?”

“How do you even come up with these research paper ideas?”

“Well, so, the other day, we were reading Appadurai’s _Modernity at Large—_ ”

And there it is again: that look on Seungyoun’s face where his eyes become soft and lidded, the corners of his mouth twitch almost imperceptibly. Like Wooseok is picking out stars in the sky and not nerding out about theories of globalization.

Wooseok feels self-conscious all of a sudden. He has an uncontrollable urge to punch Seungyoun. Or himself. Whichever is less painful. “What...”

“Nothing. You’re so cute when you’re passionate about something.”

Does Cho Seungyoun wake up every morning and choose chaos?

“So I’ll see you later at 4? At the fountain by the entrance?” Seungyoun hops off the window ledge and straightens out his pants. Wooseok already misses having Seungyoun’s form pressed up against his own.

“Sure! Looking forward to it.”

💌

Wooseok is at the theme park near campus and he has lost Seungyoun.

Lost being defined as looking everywhere for the last 45 minutes with no luck, not being able to reach Seungyoun by phone, realizing that it gets dark quickly in the fall and soon, he would have to make a decision to keep looking or go home by himself.

The worst thing about this?

On the way here, they play-fought over which ice cream flavor is the best and Seungyoun threatened jokingly to ditch him at the park because he couldn’t stand being friends with someone who liked mint chocolate chips.

Wooseok doesn’t know whether to get angry at the taller boy for ditching him or worry for Seungyoun’s safety, and thus, he oscillates between cursing Seungyoun out and cursing himself for being a self-absorbed prick.

Should he visit the info desk to put out an intercom announcement for a lost child?

Hello theme park goers. We are looking for a lost boy named Cho Seungyoun, 21 years old, 183cm tall, black hair, wearing a light-blue hoodie and a black crossbody bag. He was last seen by the Viking Ship Ride along the path leading to the Candy Mountain. If you find Cho Seungyoun, please return him to the Information Desk where his chaperone, Kim Wooseok, is waiting in tears.

Wooseok wonders if this was a prank after all. The idea of Seungyoun laughing at him from a distance makes the ground vanish beneath his feet. Wooseok almost wishes that something had come up and that Seungyoun is as frantic as he is right now, trying to get in touch. _Because Seungyoun would never leave me hanging. Right?_

He crumples to the ground, face hidden in between his knees, fingers scratching at the asphalt floor like he is a caveman trying to create fire. It is chilly out, yet his red hoodie is soaked with sweat.

Wooseok is so busy rubbing his fingers raw on the pavement, he doesn’t hear the mischievous footsteps coming his way.

“Looks like someone needs a treat. Mint chocolate chips ice cream, anyone?”

Fire never catches.

“Wooseok?” He can _hear_ the grin in Seungyoun’s voice, can imagine the big expectant smile on the boy’s face right now and he feels stupid.

Wooseok debates how he should respond to Seungyoun. He feels embarrassed that Seungyoun’s joke had somehow catapulted him into a meltdown. He stands up as slowly as he can, hoping to come up with a game plan before turning around to face Seungyoun. Part of him wants to play along. Wooseok imagines what he would say if he wasn’t weighed down by his heart now sitting pitifully in his stomach. He starts to pick at the skin around his thumbs. His left index finger feels sticky and realizes he might have made himself bleed.

Seungyoun seems to notice the heaviness in Wooseok and his shit-eating grin falls in an instant. “Wooseok? What’s wrong?”

Wooseok reminds himself to drop his shoulders and relax some tension in his legs. He so badly wants to enjoy Seungyoun’s joke. He so badly wishes that he didn’t feel so vulnerable right now. Wooseok can feel the sting in his nose bridge and has to actively will his mind to stay in his body.

“No, nothing’s wrong.” He lets out a chuckle and immediately cringes at how phony it sounds. “Let’s go now, you brat, now that you’re done playing jokes on me.”

Wooseok fakes a stretch, trying to breathe through his nose in hopes that the sting would go away. He feels so ridiculous. So so ridiculous for getting worked up and awkward at Seungyoun’s harmless joke. They start walking towards the entrance, their hangout-turned-search-party coming to an end. Wooseok is a few steps ahead of Seungyoun, wondering if Seungyoun is suspicious of how he is acting. He tries to think of something to say. _Anything._ But nothing seems right and he overthinks himself into a stale silence. He doesn’t want to come off as passive aggressive, or annoyed, or god forbid, hurt and scared. He can’t mutter up a single positive feeling to bring up the mood.

“Hey, Wooseok, look at me.” Seungyoun pulls at his arm, spinning him around.

Now that he’s facing Seungyoun, Wooseok _knows_ that his red-rimmed eyes are giving him away. He hates this. He just wants to hide.

“Are you crying?” Human beings have this weird thing where if their hurt is acknowledged and validated, the hurt grows like a shape-shifting monster.

“Oh shit, hey hey, uh, oh god.” Before Wooseok knows it, he is bawling like a child and Seungyoun is fumbling around, arms hovering like a broken windmill. Wooseok’s eyes spill and spill, flushing out the bundles of anxiety that he’s been carrying.

Seungyoun gathers him into his arms. Wooseok doesn’t think it’s helping. He is still embarrassed and confused and insecure about crying over _nothing._ But his face is now hidden from curious stares and Seungyoun’s woody cologne smells good. So he lets himself be hugged.

💌

“Do you feel better now?”

They are sitting on a park bench, Wooseok sniffing and eating his melted mint chocolate chips ice cream from a cup and Seungyoun ripping up small earthquakes with how much he’s bouncing his knees, antsy with concern.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t think you’d take me seriously.”

Wooseok refuses to look at Seungyoun, intent on staring at his dirty Adidas like they’re the most fascinating thing in the world.

“Do you… wanna talk about it?”

“About what?”

“Uh,” Seungyoun is clearly trying, mouth opening and closing like a fish, “about why you, uh, got so upset?”

Wooseok knows Seungyoun is trying hard to tip-toe around how bizarre it is to get that upset over a practical joke.

“I know you’re trying to tip-toe around how bizarre it is to get that upset. I appreciate it.” Wooseok is now more annoyed at himself than anything.

“Well, I don’t think it’s bizarre at all! Just… if it’s something sensitive to you, I want to know.”

The boy in red hoodie finishes his ice cream and wishes he had something else to occupy his mouth instead of having to answer Seungyoun’s question.

“I… probably just some abandonment issues.” Wooseok tries to think, tries to zone in on the memory that bubbled to the top earlier when he spun himself mad looking for Seungyoun.

“My… first crush ditched me at a movie theater in the middle of a movie, for like, no reasons. He just didn’t like me back and thought it was funny to lead me on. So, I don’t know, something about getting abandoned in a public place, even as a joke, kinda stung.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, no big deal.” Wooseok is up on his feet the next second, dusting the butt of his jeans, hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie. “You coming?”

Instead of a verbal reply, Seungyoun’s hand finds Wooseok’s. The first thing Wooseok registers is how ridiculously soft and small Seungyoun’s hand is. They’re touchy and almost co-dependent but they’ve never been the hand-holding type of friends. The sun is setting behind Seungyoun’s back and Wooseok has to squint to read the expression on his backlit face.

“I’m sorry I triggered that memory for you. Your feelings are always a big deal to me.” Once Wooseok’s eyes have adjusted to the dark, he is looking at the most heartfelt, most genuine expression he’s ever seen, tinted orange by the twilight.

“Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me that. I’ll be more careful in the future.”

It was _Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man’s Chest—_ the movie he never got to finish. Wooseok doesn’t know why but under the purplish sky, he decides he might want to see the rest of it.

💌

That night, Wooseok almost doesn’t show up for Anon’s check-in with Woodz. His face still warms intensely whenever he thinks about what happened earlier at the theme park. Wooseok feels like a loser. But since he is a loser _and_ a professional, he bites his tongue and shows up to work.

**ANON**

When did you realize you were in love with him?

“Hmm, about two years ago? Yeah, two years ago now.” Seungyoun ruffles his wet hair, a towel draped over his shoulders. Wooseok will never get over how captivating it is to watch someone _think_ about their crush, to see them fall into a state of bliss and hope and excitement. Wooseok has always seen it on other customers’ faces and found it cute. But this time, he is filled with horror.

“I can even remember the moment everything started to feel different. The _morning_ everything felt different to be exact.” A bittersweetness descends on Seungyoun’s face. His eyes shine with a longing that tastes like salted caramel latte.

Wooseok can’t stand it anymore.

**ANON**

Tell me about

What should Wooseok ask? What is he even doing anymore? He usually has a set of questions that are supposed to give him enough information to get in the other person’s head and love their object of affection from their point of view.

But it is impossible in this case.

Because asking Wooseok to love himself through Seungyoun’s eyes requires that he 1) acknowledges that Seungyoun’s crush isn't a fleeting thing and 2) wants to help Seungyoun succeed in his confession.

**ANON**

Tell me what you hate about him.

“What?” Seungyoun guffaws, “I don’t—Is that… necessary?” The boy is clearly trying to calibrate his reaction as to not offend his love guru, but the confusion shines through.

Okay, that question was completely off-the-cuff, hanging on the edge of Wooseok’s shriveling last brain cell. And now Seungyoun wants to pick apart his logic? What’s a socially acceptable way to say, ‘I need to know what you hate about me so I can convince you that I’m not worthy of your love’?

**ANON**

Yeah, you know. Just to get a more well-rounded view of this Wooseok guy. To see if he’s even worth your time, I guess.

Seungyoun wheezes at that, “oh gosh, you’re so sweet.” His unstyled hair falls across his forehead and Wooseok just wants to run his hand through it. Also, can Seungyoun please stop pouting?

“Um, let’s see, what I ‘hate’ about Wooseok…” Seungyoun looks thoroughly amused. Wooseok can’t tell if this is even going remotely the way he hoped it would.

“I think ‘hate’ is a pretty loaded word.” Seungyoun relaxes back into his seat, hands pulling at the cuffs of his sweatshirt and Wooseok can’t decide if he wants to stare at Seungyoun’s fluffy hair or his sweater paws.

“Are there things about Wooseok that annoy me? Of course. I mean, he’s been my best friend since middle school for god’s sake!! I’ve seen him at his best and worst. But at the end of the day, even the things about him that annoy me are just that. Things about the person I love that make me want to pull my hair out sometimes!”

**ANON**

But how are you so sure?

How are you so sure that you love him? If there are times he makes you want to pull your hair out?

“Oh, um,” Seungyoun looks a bit taken aback. Shit, did Wooseok reply too hastily? Did he seem too opinionated?

“I… guess I never thought about it that hard. I just… want him.”

Wooseok’s heart is betraying him. It is leaping out and reaching towards the sight of Seungyoun on the screen.

“He makes me… so so happy. I mean, when I’m next to him, my heart just feels full. You know? I keep wanting to gather him in my arms. I constantly have the urge to kiss all over his face, his body. I just want to say cheesy things to see him blush. I just…” Seungyoun visibly _melts,_ “I just want to shower him with love.”

Wooseok shivers at the memory of the hug from earlier, of Seungyoun’s backlit face against the setting sun, the boy not letting go of his hand as they walked, thumb caressing his knuckles, of Seungyoun standing closer to him than usual at the bus stop, Seungyoun’s hair tickling his neck as he found comfort on Wooseok’s shoulder. Wooseok remembers willing his heart to stay put. He remembers the burgeoning urge to grab Seungyoun’s face and kiss him squarely on the lips, to find out if Seungyoun’s lips are as soft as they look. He thinks of Seungyoun’s warm mouth and realizes he’s been unconsciously licking his own lips dry.

“Anon, I think I’ve recently gotten more confident. I don’t even feel afraid anymore. Whenever I’m with him, I’m just filled to the brim with joy.”

Seungyoun is so beautiful.

His cheeks are dusted pink and his eyes are bright and wonderous. There is a serene smile carved onto his face and Wooseok wants to look at it forever. 

💌

Wooseok thinks Seungyoun is the most talented musician he knows.

Despite being an International Studies major who dabbles in Visual Arts, Wooseok has been around music people all his life. Wooseok’s mother was an opera singer in her youth but gave that up after giving birth to him. Perhaps he had inherited the musical genes from his mom; Wooseok was in choir all throughout middle and high school. Somi, his best friend in high school, was an idol trainee and would frequently drag him to hang out with her other trainee friends. Apart from being involved in music himself and having musician friends, Wooseok is also a music enthusiast. Specifically, he loves attending indie concerts and underground rap battles.

Therefore, Wooseok might know a thing or two when he says that Seungyoun is the most talented musician he knows.

Today, after having finished most of his homework and wrote a heart-wrenching letter for Lee Hangyul, Wooseok came over to Seungyoun’s rented studio to help him record a demo for his new song, “meaningless.” While Wooseok thinks that Seungyoun’s voice fits this song perfectly, Seungyoun insisted that he needs to hear someone else’s voice on it to be able to ‘judge it from a distance.’

Though Wooseok pretends to complain about having to ‘miss the bright October sun being stuck in a soundproofed, completely shaded basement,’ he is content being the first person Seungyoun trusts enough to show his new song to.

“Meaningless” has a special place in Seungyoun’s heart, and by extension, Wooseok’s heart too. Two years ago, just as they were entering sophomore year in college, Seungyoun went through the worst depressive episode in all his 19 years of existence. “Meaningless” was a song that came out of that time.

At 19 years old, Seungyoun grieved the death of his grandfather whom he had grown up with. In the same year, Seungyoun failed his Music Business requirement twice and his original lyrics missed getting picked up by a big company three times, passed up in favor of those from a more well-known lyricist. On top of everything, Seungyoun’s girlfriend of 2 years, Hyoyeon noona, broke up with him because she was moving to London for medical school.

A bad year such as that naturally took a toll on even the sunniest human being.

_It’s all meaningless_

_It’s all over the place_

Wooseok whispers into the microphone, his heart wilting at the thought of Seungyoun gathering his suicide notes into a song.

_Take the trouble out of me_

_It makes me more complicated_

Two years ago, Wooseok showed up at Seungyoun’s apartment with a suitcase and his school bag. Seungyoun had cut off everyone in his life, locked himself in his apartment to slowly wither away.

“I just need to make sure you eat and stay alive,” Wooseok had said firmly, knowing that you could only do so much for someone who didn’t want to be helped.

For weeks, Wooseok made sure Seungyoun had three meals a day, showered at least three times a week, went out on walks whenever the weather permitted _and_ whenever Seungyoun wasn’t crying a river in bed. At the beginning, Wooseok slept on the sofa, trying to be as respectful as he could of Seungyoun’s personal space. He wanted to be there for Seungyoun but didn’t want to make him feel uncomfortable in his own home. After a while, Seungyoun got used to his presence enough to allow Wooseok to sleep in the same bed as him. Seungyoun went from seeing right through Wooseok like a ghost to holding actual conversations with him. He eventually even let Wooseok wash his hair for him and give him back rubs.

_How long do I have to wait for rain_

_When will the sky wash me_

One night, Wooseok was woken up by the sounds of heavy breathing and whining. He immediately knew that Seungyoun was having a nightmare again. He sat up straight and shook Seungyoun’s shoulder to wake him up.

“Seungyoun! Seungyoun! Wake up. You’re having a nightmare.” This would usually work. Wooseok mentally calculated the next steps of his routine: making Seungyoun a cup of chamomile tea and getting a towel for Seungyoun to dry his sweat.

What he didn’t anticipate was Seungyoun, the moment his eyes flew open, pulling Wooseok into a bone-crushing hug. Seungyoun broke into actual loud sobs, soaking Wooseok’s pajama shirt in a blink of an eye. In the past few weeks of living with Seungyoun, Wooseok had never been invited into sharing the pain with him. Therefore, this moment caught him completely off guard. Seungyoun clung onto him like his life depended on it. And maybe it did. Wooseok whispered sweet nothings into Seungyoun’s ears, rubbed up and down his back.

The pain Seungyoun was pouring out seeped into his own body, wormed its way to his every cell, enclosed his heart in an enthralling grip. He couldn’t tell apart Seungyoun’s wailing from that of his own. They fell asleep crying in each other’s embrace. The next time Wooseok woke, the bedside clock read 4:33 am and the sky looked orange and bruised. Seungyoun was still asleep in his arms, dry tear tracks visible on his cheeks, breathing evenly. Wooseok didn’t know why he smiled.

Maybe he was thankful to know that Seungyoun was alive and warm in spite of wanting nothing more than to disappear. He placed a kiss on the other boy's cheek.

“Cut!”

Wooseok is back in Seungyoun’s studio. He opened his eyes to the hardwood floor and foamy, soundproof walls. His eyes feel damp and the warmth of Seungyoun’s breath still lingers.

“And that’s a wrap! That was amazing, Wooseokie!” Seungyoun spoke in that nasal aegyo voice of his, face scrunching up like an excited Shiba Inu.

“Wow, I still can’t believe you don’t sing anymore. That was really truly fucking amazing. Goosebumps.” Seungyoun shudders exaggeratedly to demonstrate his point.

“Yeah that sounds like a thinly veiled compliment for yourself. ‘You did a great job because my song was great to begin with.’ Is that what it was?” Wooseok has to fight back a grin, keeping the ball of playfulness from touching the ground, silently relieved that the song didn’t seem to send Seungyoun back into that horrible mental space.

“Well, you got me.” Seungyoun brings his face uncomfortably close to his producer microphone in the control room, creating a sort of ASMR effect that gives Wooseok shivers.

Wooseok sticks out his tongue to hide the blush creeping up his face. “Are we _done_ done now? I won’t come in again to re-record even if you find faults with it when you work on post-production!” Wooseok was already taking off his headphones and hanging them on the stand.

“Yup, we are _done_ done! Told you you did a good job.” Seungyoun bounces in his seat, lips pouty _._ What aegyo monster has gotten into him lately?

“Great. Let’s go get some dinner, then. I’m starving.”

💌

Seungyoun wonders if Wooseok’s taste receptors and stomach linings are made of steel.

“I should have known that when you said ‘dinner,’ you meant spicy chicken feet and soju. For the fifth time this week.”

“I’m sorry, did you think it was a poll? Did it seem like you had a choice?”

“Ok damn, that’s so hot, dude. Yes, tell me what I can or can’t do.”

“You’re so fucking _annoying._ ” Wooseok is thankful for the spice now. No one can tell if the redness on his face and neck is chicken-induced or Seungyoun-induced.

It is a quiet Saturday night and Wooseok is giddy from the soju and Seungyoun’s company. They are huddled on low plastic stools in their frequented neighborhood tent bar. Wooseok’s apartment is only a block away, making this the perfect drinking spot for the duo.

“Ahjumma! Two more sojus, please!”

“Woah woah woah, calm down sir,” Wooseok lets the faux concern roll off his tongue, “don’t want to haul you home on my back tonight.” Both of them are fighting back giggles now, knowing full well that they are head to head in terms of alcohol tolerance. Every drinking session between them quickly turns into a competition. And the winner is often as predictable as flipping a coin.

“Oh, sweetie, it’s on.”

💌

Sometimes, Wooseok doesn’t know if ‘winning’ feels all that much like winning. Especially when the ‘loser’ gets to pass out blissfully and be transported to safety while the ‘winner’ must walk a whole block home, plus up two flights of stairs with a drunk person on their back. Not to mention that Wooseok is a little more than tipsy himself. Wooseok’s landlord, years ago, had made the rather unfortunate decision to not install an elevator in the apartment building because it was ‘only’ five floors high.

“Kim Wooseok!!!” A babbling Seungyoun gets off Wooseok’s back as soon as they reach the second floor where Wooseok’s unit is. “Try and catch me!”

“Yah, Seungyoun-ah!” Why is Seungyoun being difficult? Why does he insist on torturing poor Wooseok, who is ready to pass out on his own bed from the alcohol in his system?

It is 2 am and Wooseok does not want Mijoo noona, a single mother of three who lives next door to him, to come out and yell at them.

So he settles for whisper-shouting, “Yah! Yah!” Wooseok runs after Seungyoun and puts him in a headlock.

“Ah, ah, ‘hurts”

“Shut the fuck up or I’m gonna knock you out with my shoe.” Wooseok resents the fact that Seungyoun is the Mopey Drunk more than anything else.

Seungyoun is full-on ugly crying now. If Mijoo noona does come out like she had in the past, with her five-year-old Woojin on her hips, Wooseok hopes he can evoke some sympathy from her. One single parent heralding a good-for-nothing crybaby to another.

Luckily, Mijoo noona doesn’t come out and Wooseok doesn’t have to explain why there is one 183cm-tall-manchild in his vicelike grip.

“Okay. Bed. Now.” Wooseok throws his keys haphazardly onto the counter, hands on his hips, breathing hard. Seungyoun’s energy seems to have been depleted by that headlock he was in. He sits blankly on the carpeted floor, wiping tears from his face.

Wooseok feels kind of bad, but also not really. Seungyoun is drunk anyway. His mood is just all over the place. Despite that, Wooseok still pulls Seungyoun up by the arm and walks him to the bedroom, tone too gentle for his liking. “Come on, now. Let’s get you to bed.”

Wooseok hands him a full glass of water and makes him down the whole thing. Wooseok refuses to deal with a whiny, hungover Seungyoun in the morning. He has to finish an art assignment and two more love letters on their day off tomorrow.

They are now sitting side by side, Wooseok’s hand running up and down the taller’s back to make sure he doesn’t choke. From where Wooseok is sitting, Seungyoun looks dizzyingly _pretty_ with the blush on his soft, round cheeks. Before he could stop himself, Wooseok brings his hand up to caress Seungyoun’s face, tucking his hair behind his ear.

Seungyoun seems to freeze at that, turning his sharp, fox eyes to peer at Wooseok. The empty glass of water falls with a thud onto the floor, luckily cushioned by the carpet from breaking into pieces.

Wooseok finds himself fallen back onto the mattress, face-to-face with a blushing and misty-eyed Cho Seungyoun.

“Seungyoun?”

The taller man doesn’t say anything, just holding tightly onto Wooseok’s hand that was caressing his face. Seungyoun’s hand is so soft, Wooseok can’t get over it.

Seungyoun inches closer. Wooseok can smell soju on his breath. He suddenly feels self-conscious under Seungyoun’s adoring stare. The boy’s index finger meanders across Wooseok's face, stopping to feel the slight dent that is the scar under Wooseok’s right eye.

“Pretty.” Seungyoun lets out breathlessly.

Wooseok picks at the hem of his shirt. He doesn’t dare move in fear of ruining whatever mood they’re in. Seungyoun draws closer, pressing his lips softly to the scar. He makes his way down Wooseok’s cheek, and then the corner of his lips, down to his jaw, his neck. Seungyoun nibbles experimentally and Wooseok wonders if the drunken boy can feel his veins throbbing from the adrenaline.

Wooseok lays there, letting himself be kissed.

He knows he should push Seungyoun away. There are a million reasons why he should push Seungyoun away. Number one, Seungyoun is drunk. Number two, they’re friends and this is completely inappropriate. Number three, Wooseok doesn’t return Seungyoun’s feelings. He should not let him on.

“Mmm, I want you, Wooseokie,” Seungyoun confesses. The desperation and vulnerability in Seungyoun’s voice shake Wooseok out of his trance, his eyes flying open. He scrambles to put some distance between them.

_What the fuck am I doing?_

He was supposed to use his anonymous double-agent status to steer Seungyoun in the right path. Not getting drunk with Seungyoun and enabling him to do whatever _that_ was? On top of feeling derailed from his original plan, Wooseok finds it no longer possible to dismiss Seungyoun’s feelings just as a short-lived crush.

This won’t do. Wooseok is tipsy and perhaps suffering a lapse of judgement. He doesn’t trust himself to sleep in the same bed with Seungyoun tonight. Therefore, after tucking a whiny Seungyoun in, Wooseok grabs a pillow and a throw blanket from his closet and heads to the living room. He ignores the coldness that immediately creeps up on him and downs a tall glass of water himself to sober up.

Wooseok lies awake in fear. He doesn’t know what to do. He feels like he has spent the last few weeks poking and prodding around Seungyoun’s feelings in vain. And worst of all? Seungyoun’s determination to confess to him only seems to have grown.

(He pointedly chooses to ignore the way he has been complicit in and a provocateur of Seungyoun’s growing feelings.)

How to get someone to get over a crush?

Get them to crush on somebody else.

Yes!

That is exactly what Seungyoun needs to forget all about this silly in-love-with-my-best-friend-disaster. Wooseok needs to find Seungyoun a mate. Hear him out. This might begin to sound like a homosexual version of The Bachelors but Wooseok is dead serious. Seungyoun _thinks_ that he’s in love with Wooseok because he’s never opened his eyes to the possibilities out there. My god, Seungyoun is hot shit. He could have anyone he wants! He has that carefree, je-ne-sais-quois-ness about him that boys and girls and everyone in between would die for. And when Seungyoun gets on that stage to rap his fine ass off? Game over motherfuckers.

Seungyoun needs some good dicking (and tender loving) and Wooseok knows exactly the right person for that job.

In an intoxicated daze, both by soju and by Cho Seungyoun, Wooseok fishes out his phone and opens up Facebook messenger to search for Han Seungwoo.

**WOOSEOK**

hyunggdf

**SEUNGWOO**

Hey Wooseokie!

It’s a little weird that Seungwoo is awake and online at ass o’ clock in the morning to reply to Wooseok’s manic messages but Wooseok decides not to dwell on it.

**WOOSEOK**

hey hyungggggg <33

**SEUNGWOO**

What’s up Wooseokie? 😊

Why aren’t you sleeping? It’s almost 3.

**WOOSEOK**

um, had a bit to drink lollllll :”)

**SEUNGWOO**

Oh, hahaha :> What’s up? How can I help?

Han Seungwoo, fourth year Education major, is someone Wooseok would call a friend. The kind that was put in Wooseok’s orbit completely by happenstance but ended up staying that way with little effort from either side. Despite having very different majors, they somehow keep ending up in the same general education requirements.

Seungwoo is two years older than both Wooseok and Seungyoun. Right after finishing high school, Han Seungwoo decided to complete his mandatory military service prior to starting college. Might as well get it out of the way, he said. Thus, Seungwoo is now in the same graduating class as the pair of best friends and the three of them often run into each other at various school events.

Seungwoo and Wooseok met in their freshman year, both enrolled in a Film Philosophy class for their Philosophical Inquiry requirement. Despite the intellectual-sounding name, the class was a total bust. The professor was more interested in delivering Powerpoint presentations on dead white male philosophers than facilitating _actual_ conversations. Seungwoo and Wooseok bonded over getting drunk and writing each other’s response papers to ‘How Personal Identity Is Explored in _Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind_.’

Though studying to become a kindergarten teacher, Han Seungwoo is an extremely talented singer-songwriter who often goes busking in Hongdae and Sinchon on the weekend. Perhaps that’s exactly what brought Seungwoo and Seungyoun closer together. Not to mention that they play in the same intramural soccer team.

**WOOSEOK**

are you dating anyone, hyung???

**SEUNGWOO**

😳

Wh—

Why are you asking?

**WOOSEOK**

well.

**SEUNGWOO**

?????

**WOOSEOK**

a birdie told me that you might have a teeny tiny crush on cho seungyoun

👀

There was no birdie. Wooseok just knows. The way Seungwoo gets shy and giggly around Seungyoun? The longing stares when Seungwoo thought no one was looking? The lingering shoulder touches? Dead giveaway. And it’s not even like Wooseok pays any more attention to Seungyoun and the people who crush on his best friend. No sir, Wooseok is simply a perceptive and observant soul who makes money writing love letters.

**SEUNGWOO**

AKXFDJSKAHFKLDHAZSJAGQKJDHFJKS WHAT

Wooseok is lying upside down with his head hanging off the edge of the sofa now. He doesn’t know why he has the urge to contort himself like a bat but the wrongness of the position somehow fits the wrongness of this situation.

**WOOSEOK**

yeah hyung

👀

so when r u askign him out???

like,,,,

on that d-a-t-e

**SEUNGWOO**

Uhhh

Wooseok, I can’t believe I’m talking to you about this

Aren’t you and Seungyoun

You know

**WOOSEOK**

?

**SEUNGWOO**

You know

**WOOSEOK**

no... I actually dont

anw

didnt you say you need someone to come over next weekend to help you set up the new studio?

sounds

like

the purrrrfect

opportunity to me

👀

**SEUNGWOO**

STOPDJSJSN

**WOOSEOK**

anyway~~~~~~

imma sleep now

night night hyung <3 <3 <3

**SEUNGWOO**

Okay, night night Wooseokie

And um,

Yeah I’ll think about it

👀

Wooseok stares at his screen until it fades to dark.

And even then, he doesn’t move from his bat-like position until he starts to feel sick with the aroma of undigested spicy chicken feet and soju rising up his stomach. Hiding his face into the sofa, Wooseok wonders if a hangover is coming already from the alcohol compounded with lack of sleep. It feels like someone is squeezing his heart right now and Wooseok kind of hopes that it would vanish into nothingness.

He doesn’t realize that the perpetrator is no other than himself.

💌

**WOODZ**

DBhajkebfaswehjrcabwkjhdbQPLWJ

**ANON**

???

**WOODZ**

Wooseok is like a cat im so devastated

**ANON**

Lol

**WOODZ**

he hates the sun so much

we had track this morning and he shrunk into himself and hid in the shade

i just,,,,,,, wanted hold a fan to his face and give him a popsicle 🥺🥺

💌

**WOODZ**

so like

wooseok keeps pretending to be intimidating and i dont know why

doesnt he know that he is a softie who loves children and tiny animals???

💌

**WOODZ**

dude

wooseok is addicted to that monster drink and i just cant

💌

**WOODZ**

wooseok is a grandma

his humor is off beat and embarrassing

and he spews proverbs at the most random times and im like,,,,,

😔

why he gotta be so cute

💌

**WOODZ**

anonnnnnnnnn

hellooooooooooooooooooooooooo

heyyyy

hey, u ok?

**ANON**

Oh yeh im here

Sorry busy w school lmao

Im still working on the next letter sorry 

**WOODZ**

oh no no dw

take your time

i just,,,,

miss talking to you ig 😊

💌

October 27th. It is the Friday before Halloween weekend and everyone is already _too_ excited for Wooseok’s liking. The costumed crowds of rowdy young people make him feel terribly underdressed in his old leather jacket, jeans and glasses.

Right after a group study session to prepare for their upcoming presentation, Wooseok went to Hongdae to grab some art supplies. This semester, Wooseok decided to enroll in a figure drawing class that would work towards his minor in Visual Arts. Wooseok is more of a landscape drawer usually, so he was very excited to try something new. Much to his surprise, Wooseok got over the sight of nude models very quickly and has been excelling in both the short pose and the long pose. For the upcoming critique, Wooseok is planning to do a self-portrait. Oil paint is the medium he is most confident in and he is thrilled to try painting something other than beautiful, peopleless views of cherry blossoms or the Han river at night.

Being preoccupied with one thing after another almost made him forget about Seungyoun today.

Wooseok stoops down to look at the row of brushes of all shapes and sizes, wondering which ones would work best for the aesthetics he has in mind.

Throughout today, Wooseok barely thought about Seungyoun smiling tenderly at Seungwoo’s kind actions. Because Seungwoo is likable and there is no way you can spend time with the man and not fall immediately in love with him. Wooseok barely thought about the two of them at the rented basement studio that will become Seungwoo’s workstation, the two of them soundproofing the walls and bonding over their shared interest in music, the two of them ordering Chinese takeout and Seungwoo feeding Seungyoun dumplings—

Wooseok bemused such thoughts only twice today and he considers that a win. 

Maybe three times.

On top of not thinking about Seungyoun having a splendid time with Seungwoo hyung, Wooseok barely thought about the fact that it is his birthday today.

Wooseok doesn’t particularly like his birthday. Being an introvert who only has a small tolerance for parties and socializing aside, Wooseok would say he finds birthdays extremely anxiety-inducing. Not everyone’s birthdays. Just his own. There is something about celebrating your own existence that makes his skin crawl. Wooseok isn’t squirmy about all kinds of attention per se. Just the kind of intimate, gentle gesture of someone acknowledging and being thankful that Wooseok is alive. 

“Wooseok!”

The bespectacled boy in black leather jacket reached in to grab the flat bristle brushes number 8 through 12.

“Wooseokie!” his ears pick up a voice almost buried in the howling late October wind.

Did someone call out for him?

Wooseok turns around and squints at the crowded street. In a distance, a bundle of orange and blue is running towards him. Wooseok’s eyes widen in shock, focusing on the huffs of breath circling the running figure.

_Seungyoun?_

“Kim Wooseok! Happy fucking birthday!” it is Cho Seungyoun, screaming at the top of his lungs, doubling over in front of him, hands on his knees trying to catch a breath.

Wooseok could feel curious stares on them.

“What are you doing here?” Wooseok stands up awkwardly, brushes in one hand, the other hand fiddling with his glasses.

“What do you mean what? I’m here to make sure you don’t wallow in self-pity on the most important day of the year!” Seungyoun is _beaming_ at him, eyes disappearing into crescents, little smile dimples on his cheeks, uneven teeth peeking out from behind misty breaths.

“I wasn’t wallowing in self-pity,” Wooseok mutters quietly, himself knowing how much of a lie that is.

“Okay, fine, fine, you weren’t throwing yourself a pity party, whatever. But anything less than utmost _joy_ on this day is unacceptable by me.”

Wooseok’s eyes dart in self-consciousness. “Stop making a big deal out of this. It’s just a normal day like any other.”

Seungyoun doesn’t reply, just grinning fondly down at Wooseok, eyes sweeping like he is taking in Wooseok’s eyebags hidden behind thin frame glasses, his pale chapped lips, the scar below his right eye.

Remember what he said about ‘intimate, gentle gesture of someone acknowledging and being thankful that Wooseok is alive’?

“Happy birthday, Wooseokie.” Seungyoun breaks into an uncontrollable smile, “I love you,” and then there is a pause, just enough for Wooseok’s heart to skip a beat, “you silly angry cat.” The friendly nickname is quietly tagged on almost to minimize how sincere and earth-shattering Seungyoun’s acknowledgement is.

There is something about Seungyoun’s gaze. Wooseok feels breathless and he tells himself that the shivers are from not zipping up his jacket on a windy October night. 

“Thanks.” Wooseok kicks at the pavement. He suddenly feels the need to channel his energy elsewhere before he does something stupid. Then he remembers, “wait, why are you here? What about Seungwoo hyung?”

“Huh?”

“You were with Seungwoo hyung. And weren’t you going to be with him all night?”

“Oh, uh,” Seungyoun laughs cautiously. “I was a little distracted the whole day anyway. I kept,” Seungyoun swallows the lump in his throat. “I kept wondering what you were doing the whole time.”

Wooseok’s comprehension seems to be failing horribly. He gapes at Seungyoun like a fish.

“Seungwoo hyung caught me lost in thought a few times and asked me what was wrong. So I told him, ‘Wooseokie won’t say this out loud, but he gets really lonely on his birthday.’” The way Seungyoun juts out his lips when saying ‘Wooseokie’ is distracting.

“So then Seungwoo hyung told me to go if I wanted to. He said he could handle it on his own.”

This is the moment Wooseok’s brain catches up. But only as good as to delve into a new can of worms.

“Wait, you ditched your date for me?” Wooseok feels like there’s suddenly more space in his lungs to take in air. He doesn’t want to think that he may be relieved to hear that Seungyoun had chosen him. Because that’s a pointless thing to think. Wooseok himself was the one that set up the date.

“Date?” Seungyoun’s fox eyes widen like dinner plates. “What do you mean?” asked Seungyoun, disbelief bursting in his voice.

“Well, because—I thought,” Wooseok debates whether he should tell Seungyoun what he knows about Seungwoo’s feelings.

This feels like a momentous choice. If he tells Seungyoun, would that push Seungyoun to see Seungwoo in a different light than he previously had? Would Seungyoun feel bashful and warmed and loved by Seungwoo’s affection? Would Seungyoun start considering Seungwoo as something more? Would he give Seungwoo a chance?

“Nothing… I just assumed that for some reasons.”

“So… what do you want to do?”

“I… don’t know.” Wooseok knows it’s stupid. But birthday seems to accentuate everything he hates about himself. He is too anxious, he overthinks, he has unrealistic expectations for himself and others, he doesn’t know how to ask for or receive love.

Wooseok just wants today to be over quickly. “We don’t have to do anything. We can just… go home.”

“Hmm, I don’t know. I don’t know, Wooseokie.” Seungyoun puts on an exaggerated thinking face, fingers coming up to stroke his non-existent beard and all.

“Let’s do something you’ve always been too afraid to try!”

Wooseok doesn’t like the sound of that, “and what exactly do you have in mind?”

💌

Thirty minutes later, they find themselves at an ice-skating rink.

“Seungyoun, what the fuck?”

“It’s gonna be so fun!!!” Seungyoun is smiling ear-to-ear now, dragging him to the counter where they can rent ice skates.

“Cho Seungyoun, this is a terrible idea. I have zero sense of balance.”

“That’s exactly why it’s gonna be so fun.”

“Great, you want me to die _on_ my birthday. Got it. Not gonna lie that’s kinda poetic.” Wooseok can feel his hands getting clammy, his brain isn’t thinking straight anymore and all he can hear is the roaring sound of his own heartbeat.

“Oh my god you’re so dramatic.” Seungyoun is kneeling in front of him, doing a double knot to make sure Wooseok’s shoes won’t come undone. “Don’t worry, I won’t let you die,” Seungyoun peers up with a cheeky grin and Wooseok has to refrain himself from poking Seungyoun’s pretty smile dimples.

Deep down, he knows why Seungyoun took him ice skating. Seungyoun acts like your neighborhood idiot most of the time but the boy is scarily perceptive. Seungyoun has always known how uncomfortable Wooseok gets around his birthday. And what’s a better way to get Wooseok out of his head than to have him focus on not falling flat on his face (or butt) instead?

So off they go. The rink is nicely populated, more crowded than usual given it is Halloween weekend, but not too crowded that you can’t skate without bumping into other people. Wooseok clocks the demographics present on the rink and blushes at the fact that half of them seem to be couples. The other half is either a big group of friends or a caregiver teaching a young child how to skate.

“You okay?”

Wooseok is now crouching in what looks like the most painful squat in the world. His thighs are burning and he can already tell how sore they will be tomorrow. Whatever, this is better than standing up straight and losing his balance completely.

“Wooseok, you’re walking like a grandma. Wait, that’s not true. You’re not even walking, just gliding.”

“Shut the fuck up. I will unfriend you right this second, don’t think I won’t,” perhaps that is a little too much bite for an ice-skating amateur being pulled along by the hands across the rink.

A cold glare crosses Seungyoun’s face, “unfriend? Is that really a good idea right now, Wooseokie?”

“I—” Seungyoun’s serial killer tone sends shivers coursing through him, “I’m sorry, Seungyoun-nim, please don’t let go of me.”

“Mmm, since you asked so nicely, kitten,” Seungyoun smirks down at him, emitting an aura of authority that makes Wooseok want to curl in on himself.

For the rest of the night, Seungyoun maintains physical contact with him at all times. When he isn’t leading Wooseok by the hands, he holds out an arm for Wooseok or hovers by Wooseok’s waist, ready to catch him every time he looks shaky on his feet.

💌

**WOODZ**

Hey, anon.

ANOSFNNNN

ANONNNNN ANSWER MEEEE

**ANON**

WHt? What?

**WOODZ**

I, I, I,,, I can’t sleep. I’m going insane. I’m,,, FUKCKCKC.

**ANON**

???

**WOODZ**

Wooseok. We,,,,, went out on for his birthday today and,,, he was so cute. 🥺🥺 He’s,,, I want to cuddle him. I want to cuddle him _so_ bad. SO BAD. Like I just feel so gay right now. So so gay. I’m a whole homosexual. I just,,,, feel so much.

**ANON**

...

Uh, well, goodnight Woodz. 🙂 

That night, Wooseok drifts off to sleep imagining the soft strands of Seungyoun’s pitch-black hair, the smell of his cologne mixed with sweat and fabric softener, his laugh, his uninhibited, roaring, the-whole-world-tunes-out kind of laugh. The small boy pulls his weighted blanket tighter around himself, basking in the ease of being on the receiving end of Seungyoun’s uncurbed attention.

💌

The next day, Wooseok notices that his jaw hurts a bit and wonders if it’s from all the smiling he’s done. He internally sighs thinking about how much power Cho Seungyoun has over him. Wooseok doesn’t know what this warm sensation of tulips blooming in his chest means but the tulips are ferocious and fragrant. They occupy Wooseok’s mind and injects a spring to his steps.

Today, Wooseok almost dropped his plan to study for the upcoming Econ exam to hang out with Seungyoun. After falling asleep to Woodz’ i-feel-so-homosexual messages, he had woken up this morning to Seungyoun’s cheery ‘good morning’ text asking him to go get brunch. Brunch sounded so nice. Wooseok would kill for some French toast and strawberry jam right now. But if anyone had enough self-control to turn down pure delight and indulgence on a Saturday morning, it would be Kim Wooseok.

He texted Seungyoun that he’d be in the campus library studying for his exam and that Seungyoun should probably do some studying too. Get an education, he said. Get that tuition money’s worth, he said.

He runs into Hyeongjun, a freshman who works at the campus coffee shop he frequents and was told he looks particularly ‘blissed out’ today. Wooseok doesn’t know what to say to that so he just thanks him for the Iced Latte and walks away. He _then_ bumps into Chungha, the pretty sophomore whom he went on two dates with 6 months ago, who literally walks into a tree because she ‘had never seen Wooseok smiling like that before.’

Wooseok is positively weirded out now. He thinks he needs to avoid people he knows for the rest of the day for whatever magical potion he took to wear off. Before arriving at the library, Wooseok stops by a drinking fountain to fill up his water bottle. As he’s tilting his head to drink from the fountain, a voice speaks up behind him, “Wooseokie…”

He looks up, hand wiping stray droplets of water from his chin.

In front of him is one Han Seungwoo, eyebrows knitted and hands wringing.

“Oh,” Wooseok suddenly feels awkward, “hi hyung.” He isn’t sure why. Maybe he feels weird that Seungyoun left the ‘date’ with Seungwoo (that _he_ himself set up) early yesterday to come celebrate Wooseok’s birthday. Didn’t Seungyoun say that Seungwoo hyung was fine with it though? Besides, Wooseok and Seungyoun are best friends. It’s not strange to want to celebrate a friend’s birthday, right?

“Can we… talk?”

Deep down, there is a gnawing voice telling him he knows _exactly_ why Seungwoo is wearing that expression right now and why it is making him feel such dread.

“Sure.” He tries out a chipper tone in hopes it would clear the air but Seungwoo just turns his back to him, walking quietly to an empty classroom. When they get to the classroom, Seungwoo turns around, leaning on the podium, hands in his pockets, eyes downcast.

“So… I didn’t know if I should even talk to you about this. Because you seemed genuinely well-intentioned. But after thinking about it all night, I think it’s only right to… uh, bring it up to you.”

Wooseok kicks at the floor aimlessly. Instead of looking at Seungwoo, his eyes are fixed on the half-erased Hero’s Journey diagram on the white board, where the “abyss” is circled multiple times in red.

“Wooseok, I know you’re in love with Seungyoun.”

Wooseok wonders why the Hero needs “death and rebirth” in order to complete their arc. Is pain necessary for transformation?

“Wooseok.”

Seungwoo is standing in front of him with those Snoopy-looking eyes and Wooseok feels as if he had committed an unforgivable crime. Wooseok keeps mulling over and over Seungwoo’s words. Particularly, ‘in love’ rings in his head until they mutate into nonsensical syllables strung together.

He hears himself scoffing, “what are you saying, hyung?”

Seungwoo runs a hand through his dark brown hair, a worn out expression on his face. “Wooseok, I know it can be hard sometimes to admit that you’re in love with someone so important to you. I get it. It’s scary. You two have been close friends for so long.”

Seungwoo gets it? Seungwoo somehow declares that Wooseok is in love with Seungyoun and thinks that it makes sense?

Seungyoun is the most cherished person in Wooseok’s life. Love feels… wrong. And transient. Fickle. Too difficult for someone as broken as Wooseok. Wooseok wants to be by Seungyoun’s side for the rest of his life and somehow, ‘love’ sounds like something that would get in the way of that happening. Love is not safe.

Seungwoo ignores the spiral Wooseok is digging himself into and continues, “I’ve always known, actually. I’ve always known you and Seungyoun were in love. How silly of me to think I could still have a chance.” Seungwoo’s brown eyes are glossy now and Wooseok just wants everything to go away.

“Hyung, that’s not… we’re not in love. You’re misunderstanding.”

Wooseok doesn’t know why he feels the need to deny Seungwoo’s statement. It is, at the very least, half true. Seungyoun _is_ in love with him. Seungyoun came to a _stranger_ on the internet for assistance to confess to Wooseok for goodness’ sake.

“Yeah, whatever you say, Wooseokie. Just, don’t pull me into this anymore. It was stupid for me to get involved. I, yeah. Hopefully things work out between the two of you.”

In the sea of panic and remorse, one thought rises above all else: this is all Seungyoun’s fault. If Seungyoun didn’t throw a wrench into their well-oiled friendship, everything would still be fine. Wooseok could keep loving Seungyoun without admitting that he is _in love_ with Seungyoun.

💌

Instead of going to the library to check out the books he requested, Wooseok locks himself in a bathroom stall. If he needs to cry or pull his hair out, there’s no one around to judge him. Besides, there is a weird self-deprecating pleasure in confining himself to a tight space so that the ugly monster inside him fills out every crevice of the room.

A notification sounds from his phone, echoing loudly in the tiny stall.

**WOODZ**

hey anon, i think i’m gonna tell him. 😊

and not even via an anonymous letter..............

hehe sowie i’ll still pay you of course

i just think i’m ready to tell him i’m in love with him to his face now :”)

For some twisted reasons, this makes him so mad. Wooseok’s fingers move before he can stop them. He is outside of his body watching a scared and desperate boy lock himself in a public bathroom stall on a Saturday morning and ruin the best thing that ever happened to him.

**ANON**

why did you suddenly decide to do that?

how do you know it’s love?

**WOODZ**

what?

**ANON**

don’t you think that is pretty reckless? to say the word love so easily?

**WOODZ**

i dont say it easily

**ANON**

you may think that you’re in love but it seems like you don’t even know this guy at all

**WOODZ**

anon, you’re being really strange right now. why are you suddenly

Wooseok is huffing frantically now. His fingers tap violently at the screen. If this was a comic book, there would be smoke coming out of him. Outside his stall, someone just came in stomping loudly. A sound of a book bag being thrown carelessly on the ground is heard.

**ANON**

what about you guys’ friendship? isn’t it irresponsible to take a chance and risk losing everything?

**WOODZ**

okay thats rlly unfair u dont know wooseok

heck you barely even know me

i dont know whats up w you today but

you rlly crossed a line just now

Wooseok hears himself letting out a loud groan that reverberates off the walls. He is so so worked up, hair messy from all the pulling he’s done in the last few minutes alone.

As he prepares to reply to Seungyoun’s last message, someone raps on the bathroom door.

“Wooseok?”

A breath is stuck in his throat.

Wooseok tries to process that 1) he wasn’t alone like he thought he was and 2) that is Seungyoun’s voice.

Something inside him reasons that it might not be Seungyoun, that it was just a classmate or even a professor coming to campus to grade papers on the weekend.

But who is he kidding?

He’d recognize Seungyoun’s voice anywhere. The same way Seungyoun had recognized Wooseok from the loud groan he let out just now.

What’s worse, he realizes that his phone has been pinging this entire time. An obnoxious sound punctuated the still air every time a message from Woodz arrived. If Seungyoun had a brain at all, he’d already have put 2 and 2 together and figured out that ‘Anon’ was sitting inside the bathroom stall and that there was just a door separating the two of them.

“Wooseok, are you in there?” There is much less urgency in Seungyoun’s voice this time, almost as if he’s back-tracking from the conviction that the person inside the bathroom stall is ‘Anon,’ his anonymous love letter writer, and also Kim Wooseok, the intended recipient of said letter. 

Is Seungyoun wishing that he was wrong? Wooseok racks his brain for a way out, any alternative to opening the door and facing his best friend.

He hears Seungyoun taking a shaky breath.

Perhaps it is idiotic of him to swing open the door just because he instinctively runs towards Seungyoun whenever the boy seems to be falling apart.

It is idiotic because this time, he is the reason Seungyoun is falling apart.

There are many things Wooseok can say to describe the moment that happens next. But they would all fall short. They would all seem like absolute clichés that fail to illustrate the look on Seungyoun’s face.

Wooseok thinks this is the abyss. The turning point where one comes face to face with death and hopes for rebirth. But the Hero’s Journey is an artifice after all. A device to take people on a course towards change and catharsis. Real life isn’t always a journey and sometimes, there is no rebirth.

“So that’s why you kept convincing me to give up on my crush.” Seungyoun smiles sadly. “At least I have my answer now, I guess.”

And at that, Seungyoun walks away from him. Seungyoun, in his black snapback, grey hoodie and black jean jacket. Seungyoun picking up the book bag lying open-mouthed on the floor. Seungyoun in his black Vans sneakers making the _squeak squeak_ sound. Seungyoun walking away from him and his lies.

Before he can make a decision on what to do, he finds himself running after the taller. Through the half-empty campus, through the mini botanical garden and the campus coffee shop, crossing by the fountain at the entrance and all the way to the train station. Wooseok scans the crowd frantically, looking for Seungyoun’s grayscale outfit. Why did Seungyoun have to wear muted colors today? Why couldn’t he have worn his watermelon-looking neon green sweatshirt?

Wooseok spots him standing at the kiosk to top up his train pass. “Wait! Seungyoun! Seungyoun! Can we talk?”

Seungyoun’s grimace shows that he had heard Wooseok calling out for him but chose to ignore instead.

The smaller man catches up, breathing heavily. Wooseok isn’t a runner and his body is probably very thrown off by the sudden sprint just now.

“What did you mean?” his speech is punctured by large intakes of breath, “what answer did you think you got?” Wooseok’s chest is burning from the lack of oxygen. He cringes at how hoarse his voice sounds.

Seungyoun swivels around to look at him with bloodshot eyes and quivering lips.

“That you don’t feel the same about me!” They are in the middle of a crowded train station and usually, Wooseok would be embarrassed to draw attention to himself this way. But right now, Seungyoun is crying and nothing else matters.

“Seungyoun, I… oh gosh… how do I say this,” Wooseok is terrible at conflicts. He goes through life _avoiding_ them at all cost and the first instinct is always to de-escalate as best as he can. “I love you too. We’re best friends for god’s sake! I just… don’t know why you need to make it anything more than that!”

Later that night, Wooseok would regret every single word he says. He would look back at this moment perplexed by how he manages to be the biggest asshole in the world.

“How can you say that?” Seungyoun is ugly crying now, snot and all. “That is so unfair of you to say. You’ve,” he laughs mirthlessly, “literally been listening to my feelings for weeks. I’ve been pouring all of my feelings to whom I thought was a stranger on the internet but turned out to be the very person I’m in love with. How can you still say that I’m making a ‘big deal’ out of nothing?” The air quotes Seungyoun gestures make his gut churn.

“Seungyoun, I just want us to be friends.”

Wooseok is genuinely baffled. This whole situation feels like a grave injustice. Must he love Seungyoun in _that_ way? Is that the only valid way to care for someone? Isn’t Seungyoun selfish for putting him in this position?

“What does that mean to you?”

“Huh?”

“You seem fixated on this binary notion of ‘friends’ versus ‘more than friends.’ So tell me, what does ‘being friends’ look like to you?”

_What does ‘being friends’ look like to me?_

“What do you mean? We’ve been friends even before this whole—” Wooseok rubs his face, internally willing himself to slow down before he says something he regrets. _Again._ He can feel his body tensing up and he tries not to trip over his words.

“What I mean to say is, ‘being friends’ means being what we’ve always been. We hang out together. We have a ton of fun. We joke around freely. And there are never any obligations to each other. We choose to spend time together, but we respect each other’s space.”

“So then my feelings for you doesn’t change anything.”

“What?”

“Why do my feelings freak you out so much?”

“Because—because—” Wooseok is trying to arrive at a response. He really is. _What is it about Seungyoun’s romantic interest in him that throws him so off balance?_

“Because it’s risky.” The truth of his statement hits him in the gut. “Romance is so unpredictable. Why would you give up friendship for something as transient as lust or infatuation?”

“Friendship isn’t any more permanent than romantic partnership?”

Wooseok can’t say anything to that because Seungyoun is right.

“Any relationship requires active commitment and honest communication. If I’m not honest with you about how I feel, then I’m not investing fully in our friendship. The same way you have not been a friend to me these past few weeks with the way you’ve been acting.”

Wooseok is rooted to his spot, at a loss for words, shame growing with every second. He feels as if he had fallen off a cliff and is now hanging on for dear life. His hand is bloody and torn, grabbing at the rocky edges.

“I don’t ask that you return my feelings. I just wish you wouldn’t go behind my back, lie to me, or run away from me like my feelings are disgusting or misguided.

Seungyoun wipes away his tears and gathers himself. A rush of people just got off the train and are coming out through the turnstiles. Wooseok can see a family in baseball gears, looking like they just got out of a game. A young boy of 7 or 8 years old is showing off his new stuffed toy to his mother, animatedly acting out a pitch. On the other side of him, a group of teenage girls are chatting about the Marvel movie they just saw, some of them eating frozen yogurt from a cup as they walk.

“If you still refuse to acknowledge my feelings, there’s nothing else I can do.”

“What does that mean?”

The taller boy looks down at the ground, muttering almost to himself, “It means that maybe, I’m done running after someone who keeps running away.”

 _Someone who keeps running away_.

For some reasons, Wooseok’s brain is refusing to compute Seungyoun’s words. Wooseok is a smart kid and this shouldn’t be as much of a struggle as it evidently is.

“Are you saying,” Wooseok swallows. His mind is at a million places and he can feel panic rising in his chest. Tears prickle at his eyes. Not at Seungyoun’s implication but at the disappointment he feels towards himself. He hates hurting Seungyoun. He hates hurting Seungyoun just because he’s too insecure to allow himself to be loved. He hates hurting Seungyoun just by being who he is.

_Someone who keeps running away._

At Wooseok’s silence, Seungyoun takes a deep breath and walks away, leaving Wooseok to stand like a statue as streams of people move on by.

At some point, he crashes to the ground and just sits there until a security guard comes to check on him. Someone hauls him to sit on a bench. Someone hands him a water bottle from the vending machine that he doesn’t drink from. He just sits there and bawls his eyes out. If people going about enjoying their cloudless Saturday afternoon gives him weird stares, he doesn’t notice.

“Hey are you okay?”

He doesn’t know how much time has passed. He can’t feel anything other than the wracking sobs coursing through him.

“Hey! Hey! Do you need help?”

Wooseok looks up with his swollen eyes to find Lee Hangyul looking down at him with his signature blank face save for the glint of concern.

“Hangyul?”

Hangyul’s eyes widen like saucepans, “do I know you?”

How convenient is it that just as he has estranged both his soulmate and his closest hyung (on the same day, no less), that he finds Lee Hangyul, Anon’s most recent success story. A few days ago, Hangyul messaged him on Twitter to announce that he finally got together with Yohan and thanked Wooseok for all he’d done.

Wooseok is happy for Hangyul, he really is. He is glad to help others find love. Right now, he would be even more glad if he hasn’t gone and broken the heart of the most important person in his life. Wooseok writes letters for others because he is addicted to romance, the fluttering sensations, the trials and tribulations that force one to grow. Wooseok loves love as long as it doesn’t involve him.

“It’s me _—_ Anon. I helped you get together with Yohan.”

💌

Wooseok’s favorite genre in film, television, and literature is romance. He likes happy endings that makes the precariousness of putting your feelings in someone else’s hands worth it. But Wooseok is also a grown man who understands that real life is hardly that simple. Real life doesn’t end at the happily ever after. Real life is how ‘after’ plays out.

Perhaps that is why Wooseok allows himself the escapism that writing anonymous love letters affords.

In doing that job, Wooseok can vicariously live through someone else’s romance. And his involvement, his stakes and emotional investment ends at the confession. The happy ending.

But Seungyoun is no happy ending. Seungyoun is reality. The best part about Wooseok’s reality, to be exact. The part where Wooseok gets to be a little less cynical, a little braver, a lot more himself than he can ever be. A part of him knows that that is too much to put on any one individual. (Wooseok feels like too much. He feels that his love for Seungyoun is bigger than any shape romance could take.)

Wooseok is mature enough to understand that holding something too precious can soil it. If he grips too tightly, he might open his palms to find only ash.

“What if it doesn’t work out?” Wooseok twiddles the strap of his backpack. He crosses and uncrosses his legs at the ankles.

“What doesn’t?” Next to Wooseok, Hangyul is stuffing his face with popcorns. The movie won’t start for the next 10 minutes and Hangyul has already wolfed down half the bucket.

“I, whatever it is that Seungyoun, whatever would come about, that if… we decide to give it a try,” Wooseok grumbles. Here is another episode on “Wooseok Versus The Spoken Language”.

“Define ‘not working out’.” The other boy blabs with his mouth full.

“Lee Hangyul, stop fucking with me.” He doesn’t need to be here, Wooseok tells himself. There is still time to get the fuck home and leave Hangyul to watch _Frozen 2_ by himself.

“I think I know why you came to me for help.”

Wooseok looks over at Hangyul challengingly, keen for him to continue.

“Because I don’t know you.”

He blinks.

“We’re technically not even friends. I’m just a mere sophomore who is, more often than not, stuck in the basement of the Engineering department. I don’t know anyone you know. Never even seen this Seungyoun guy before. I am as good as a stranger you pick out on the internet. I mean, I kinda am. Therefore, I am more or less a safe dumping ground for your angsty feelings about your best friend.”

Damn Engineering majors and their knacks for logical deduction.

“Lee Hangyul, this is the moment I wish you a good life and move to Europe.”

Hangyul scoffs. He seems almost bored, hands tucked in coat pockets, right leg shaking to the beat of Dua Lipa’s “Don’t Start Now” from the lobby’s sound system.

“It’s alright, hyung. That was also the reason I came to Anon for my ‘Yohan troubles’.” Hangyul sucks the last of his Pepsi noisily. Wooseok is petty so he prays that Hangyul choke from the carbonation.

Hangyul doesn’t.

“So back to your feelings.”

“Yes.”

“Wooseok hyung, I know this is hard for you. Sometimes, it’s helpful to be asked the really nitty gritty questions, you know? Just to see where your logic falls apart!”

“Great. Love that. Love getting my logic picked apart.”

“Glad to be of service. Now, define ‘not working out’.”

Wooseok sighs. He doesn’t know why he even signed up to be berated by Lee Hangyul of all people. But here goes. “Seungyoun said he likes me like _that._ ” Hangyul sneers at Wooseok’s horrendous attempt at words. “If, and I absolutely mean _if_ , hypothetically, we start dating.”

“Uh huh?”

“And we break up.”

“Wow, that was fast.”

“What then?”

Hangyul scrunches his eyebrows, unsure where to begin.

“Okay, so it seems to me that you’re terrified of the possibility that getting together with Seungyoun is a mistake.”

“…Yes.”

Hangyul nods, lips pursed in thought, “So, first of all, Seungyoun told you he liked you. It’s not like he asked for your hand in marriage.”

“That is… true. But telling me he likes me means… I don’t know, wanting to take things to the next level, right?”

“Okay, again, enough with all that vague shit. What do you mean ‘next level’?”

“I, like, doing More Than Best Friends things…” Wooseok is grateful that Hangyul and him had decided to have this conversation without facing each other. They’re just two bros sucking on their Pepsi, people-watching in the lobby of a mall, waiting for _Frozen 2_ to start showing.

“Like, when you like someone, you probably, I don’t know, want to, hug and kiss them, and also—”

“You can say sex, it’s okay.”

“Yeah, sex. I mean, for some people, that’s what they want, right?”

“That’s true. Some people do want that.”

When Wooseok doesn’t say anything in reply, Hangyul looks over to him, chewing on the straw, “do you not want to do those things with Seungyoun?”

“I—,” Wooseok tries imagining it in his head, then gives up, “I don’t know.”

“Well, the thing is, I can tell you what ‘a relationship’ means to me. But only Seungyoun can tell you what _he_ wants out of a relationship. More specifically, a relationship with you.”

Wooseok lets that sink in.

“You don’t know, do you?”

Wooseok can’t say anything to that.

“Of course, you don’t. You went and did all kinds of weird shit before you could listen to the guy properly.”

Half-expecting Wooseok to snark back, Wooseok’s timid tone comes at a surprise, “Hangyul-ah.”

“Hm?”

“Why am I like this?”

Hangyul looks over at Wooseok to indicate that the small boy has his full attention and that he can take as long as he needs to elaborate.

“Do other people freak out at every little definition? Do other people get cold sweat thinking about ‘love’ and ‘romance’ and ‘affection’?”

Wooseok has finished his Pepsi and is kicking dejectedly at the ground.

“You know it’s a bit ironic that you feel that way yet have made a side hustle out of writing love letters right?”

The small boy rolls his eyes, “it’s different when I’m not a participant.”

Billie Eilish’s “everything i wanted” is playing now and they let the calm settle between them. Hangyul fiddles with his phone, opening then closing the lock screen aimlessly.

“I almost made a joke about voyeurism, but I resisted.”

“Shut the fuck up.” Wooseok smiles that endearing half-smile of his.

“Wooseok, a lot of what you’re going through is going to require active personal work. But Seungyoun and his affection is here, knocking at your door, waiting for you to respond.”

Wooseok smiles a little bigger at Hangyul’s goofy metaphor.

“He is your best friend. I hope you’ll give him a chance to work it out with you.”

“What if I lose him?” if Wooseok weren’t sitting in the middle of a crowded lobby right now, he might shrink into himself and cry at the prospect of losing Seungyoun.

“You’ll lose him anyway if you refuse to acknowledge his heart. And if I’m being honest, you are being cruel by asking him to stifle his love for you. You are asking him to be dishonest with his feelings.”

Wooseok hates that Hangyul is right. He sits uncomfortably in the truth.

“His feelings are what they are. The ball is now in your court.”

How did he never notice Hangyul’s excessive use of metaphors?

“So, _Frozen 2_?”

Wooseok refuses to move. Because he is a child like that.

“Is the fact that we’re in public good or bad?” The younger boy wonders out loud, offering questions he thinks Wooseok would have an easier time answering.

“It’s bad but probably in a better way.”

“Okay.”

“…”

“So, do you think you can sit in your feelings _inside_ the movie theatre while _Frozen 2_ is playing or…”

Wooseok rushes out of his seat, still not looking at Hangyul. He speed-walks to where the movie theatre employee is scanning tickets.

They easily find their seats in the dark. Thankfully, the movie hasn’t started yet or else Wooseok would feel bad for making Hangyul miss the beginning of _Frozen 2_. Hangyul has been talking his ears off about this sequel since they ran into each at the train station. On screen, a Trident gum commercial plays. 

“Hangyul, I’m not mad at you. I’m just feeling Too Seen right now.” Wooseok half-covers his face with the extra-large bucket of popcorn. (The movie hasn’t even started yet and they’ve already hit the pan. He wants to tell Hangyul that gluttony is one of the deadly sins.)

“I know.” Hangyul drapes his arm around Wooseok’s shoulders. “Hyung, you know that you make me feel seen all the time too right? And how much I’m grateful for your help in confessing to Yohan?”

“Aw, I appreciate you randomly bringing up how much you value my support just to make me feel better about being an emotionally constipated loser.”

“…”

“Okay, one of these days, we’ll work on your inability to accept validation.”

💌

It’s a dreary Wednesday afternoon and Wooseok has already had a _very_ long week. After talking to Hangyul at the movie theatre last Friday, Wooseok spent the weekend mulling over his next step. Hangyul was right. He needed to talk to Seungyoun.

He texted Seungyoun a pathetic lonesome ‘hey,’ which Seungyoun left on read. That shouldn’t have crushed his confidence as it did, but Wooseok became thoroughly anxious, he opened and closed his iMessage app obsessively for hours, cooked up scenarios in his head, all of which included Seungyoun unfriending him and refusing to ever see him again. After deactivating all his social media accounts and reactivating them three times, Wooseok had had enough. He moved on to letter writing, his (supposed) specialty.

That didn’t work out so well either. Because Wooseok had never written a single letter as himself before.

So he buried himself in a growing pile of shitty drafts, half-filled pages of fragrant note papers all crumbled up and tossed across his home like decorations. Like he was trying to construct a colorful garden of discarded love notes.

On Monday, his professor cancelled class and instead of working on his papers as intended, Wooseok camped out in front of Seungyoun’s apartment. When he said ‘camped,’ he meant sitting in front of Seungyoun’s door from 8 am to 9 pm. He did take as few pee breaks as he could and had only one meal: a lollipop and an old pack of juice he discovered at the bottom of his backpack.

He did blow up Seungyoun’s phone with ‘hey’s and ‘I’m outside’s and ‘I’m still outside’s and ‘still outside so pls come out lmao’s. Seungyoun never came out but replied at 8:52 pm to tell Wooseok to ‘please go home.’

So today, Wednesday, drizzly and gross, Wooseok is at the soccer field because Seungyoun usually has soccer on Wednesday evenings. He texts Seungyoun to let him know that he’s waiting. The sky looks grey and angry and Wooseok didn’t bring an umbrella because he’s a fucking idiot. He sits on the bench and waits.

The last time he saw Seungyoun, the boy had walked away from him with a dull glint in his eyes. At that moment, Wooseok thought of the ocean. And of that one trip he took with his father when he was in first grade. Wooseok’s father had wanted to teach him how to swim for the longest time yet Wooseok was too much of a coward to let himself properly try. When they walked towards the deep end of the sea, water started to look so clear Wooseok could see the outline of his feet. The sky was crispy and blue and windless. Wooseok held onto his father’s hand firmly, pushing down ever so slightly to stay afloat as they kept going further out. They had both decided that being close to shore meant being amongst empty snack bags and beer cans. The further out you go, the cleaner the water would be.

When they were a mile away from shore, Wooseok’s father suddenly let go of his hand.

“Come on, Wooseokie! This is your chance to learn how to swim!”

The young boy started to panic. He can’t remember now what he said or if he said anything at all. But he remembers pushing with his arms and legs, neck straining to keep his face above water. He kept pushing and pushing and he could hear his father telling him an anecdote about a friend who drowned at sea because she couldn’t swim.

Wooseok doesn’t remember how that episode ended. Maybe his feet cramped from trying to touch the ground. Maybe his father decided to have mercy on him and reached out to take away the struggle. Maybe he passed out from sheer panic.

Wooseok doesn’t remember. But he remembers the blue sky. The windless, blue sky. And the ocean. Not the memory of the ocean per se, because they weren’t even that far out. But the idea of the ocean consuming him and coloring his entire being blue.

It is raining cats and dogs outside and Wooseok realizes that Seungyoun’s team is probably not playing today due to the weather. Nothing has been going right for him recently. He checks his phone and there has been no reply to his latest text. Wooseok hates that he is embittered most by being shut out of Seungyoun’s life. He knows he’s selfish and that he shouldn’t be entitled to Seungyoun’s friendship given how horribly he’d behaved.

Wooseok didn’t realize how much he needed to adjust his routine after Seungyoun shut him out. He no longer has anyone to pick up in the morning. No one for him to make breakfast and brew coffee for. No one to copy his homework and get them both in trouble. No one to wrap him in big bear hugs out of nowhere, for absolutely no reasons. No one to smile at him tenderly. No Seungyoun.

The rain doesn’t seem to let up anytime soon. Wooseok decides to make his way back, putting his hood on uselessly. He doesn’t even bother running because the bus stop is a 10 minutes-walk away from campus and he will be drenched regardless of how fast he runs.

As he marches pitifully in the rain, his jeans turn from light to dark blue. His orange hoodie is thoroughly soaked. The white t-shirt underneath clings to his body, making him shiver.

Having had less than 3 hours of sleep each night for the last week, the rain is making him dizzy; Wooseok could almost faint. His legs move on their own, putting one foot in front of the other robotically. His shoulders tense from both the rain and the effort to keep from crumbing down.

“Wooseok.”

The heavy and constant pouring begins to make his ears buzz. Wooseok struggles to see where he’s going, hands coming up every now and then to wipe the water from his face.

“Wooseok!”

The small boy jumps in place like a scared cat. He takes a second to reorient himself, to make sure that he didn’t imagine someone calling his name.

And there in front of him, through the foggy screen of pouring rain, stands Cho Seungyoun.

Cho Seungyoun, in his crisp white shirt and rolled up sleeves tucked in black slacks. His black hair pushed back with gel. Seungyoun is holding an umbrella, looking out of breath and concerned.

“Kim Wooseok.” Is Seungyoun frowning? Why?

The taller man walks towards him, his frown slowly dissolving with each step to leave the kindest, most reassuring smile and Wooseok’s knees buckle slightly.

Maybe it was all the emotional and physical stress Wooseok had to go through these past few days. Maybe it was how long they had gone without talking to each other (10 days). He just wants to crash into Seungyoun and nudge his face against Seungyoun’s white shirt without a care. Wooseok imagines how it would feel to nestle in the crook of Seungyoun’s neck, breathing him in. His body miraculously releases some tension at that.

Wooseok wants so badly to run into Seungyoun’s arms and be enveloped by his warmth. But he resists the urge. He needs to. The memory of Seungyoun’s cold eyes and texts left on read is still fresh in his mind. He is both overjoyed and bewildered by Seungyoun’s presence in front of him. He doesn’t know what to think.

Before Wooseok can burn himself to dust with worries, Seungyoun slants his umbrella so it covers Wooseok and leaves the shoulders of his white shirt to darken in the rain.

Seungyoun peers down at him gingerly, almost nervously, “let’s go home.”

After being drenched in the rain for god knows how long, Seungyoun’s warm breath fanning his face gives him goosebumps. For some reasons, he suddenly wants to cry.

All the tension in his body plunges at his restraint. Wooseok is a dam only seconds from breaking, giving a last righteous attempt at resistance. Seungyoun seems to notice how much Wooseok is struggling to keep it in. He places a hand comfortingly on Wooseok’s shoulder, thumbing Wooseok’s collarbone through the wet clothes.

And that does him in.

“Seungyoun,” he chokes out a sob before he can stop himself, “I’m sorry… I’m so so sorry.”

“Aw, come here, you crybaby.” Seungyoun pulls Wooseok into his arms, letting Wooseok’s wet and muddied clothes ruin his white shirt. “I’m here. I’m here,” the taller man rubs up and down Wooseok’s back, cooing reassurances Wooseok can barely catch. Wooseok’s head is filled with Seungyoun Seungyoun Seungyoun. The rest of the world tunes out and there is only the kindness in Seungyoun’s voice and the smell of his lilac fabric softener. They stand swaying to no music, an umbrella over their heads, limbs tangling yet seek to entangle even more.

And in that second, Wooseok just wants more.

He wants more of Seungyoun. He wants Seungyoun to fill up every molecule of his being. He wants Seungyoun to consume him so that this feeling of tranquility could stay with him forever. He is at sea but Seungyoun is a driftwood he latched onto to stay afloat. His hand was left cold but as he holds onto Seungyoun, he doesn’t feel like drowning anymore. Wooseok feels safe and protected. Perhaps for the first time in a long time, he feels enough. Wooseok thinks if he lets go of all vigilance, all caution and mistrust, Seungyoun will not let him fall.

💌

They decide to go back to Seungyoun’s apartment because he lives closer to school than Wooseok does. On the way there, they walk in silence, the umbrella over both of them feels too small for comfort. Wooseok is still reeling from the hug they shared. Seungyoun doesn’t say anything either and Wooseok assumes that the taller boy is more focused on getting them out of the rain.

Upon entering the elevator of Seungyoun’s apartment building, reality catches up to Wooseok. He was chasing Seungyoun down for days but never settled on a satisfactory Plan of Action. And now that they no longer have the excuse of sharing an umbrella, Wooseok makes an effort to stand as far away from Seungyoun as possible, feigning exhaustion and leaning his weight against the side. Wooseok begins to feel self-conscious, fingers picking at the zipper of his bag. The hug in the rain flashes in his mind tauntingly despite how much he tries to undermine it.

Wooseok rarely ever cries in front of anyone.

Now, that might not be very believable given how many times he has bawled his eyes out over Seungyoun in the last month or so. But prior to the recent happenings, Seungyoun had only seen Wooseok in tears twice. Once was after the heated argument Wooseok had with Somi that led to their friendship breakup. The other time was when Wooseok’s childhood dog Ddadda got ill. So the moment that transpired between them just now, where Wooseok started crying out of nowhere—due to sheer exhaustion? —seems silly in comparison.

After what seems like an eon, they get off the elevator. Walking down the hallway with floor to ceiling windows on one side, Wooseok sees that the rain has started to let up. Where they are, the windows look out to the building parking lot and Wooseok fixes his eyes there like it’s the most exciting scenery. Is Seungyoun as hyperaware of their silence right now or is Wooseok overthinking it like he always does? The longer the silence goes on for, the more anxious Wooseok feels about breaking it. _This won’t do._ Wooseok frantically thinks of something to say. _Anything. Anything would be fine._

“Did you—”

“You should—”

_Shit._

“Oh sorry, you—”

“What were you gonna—”

Wooseok feels like a wet mop, “Seungyoun, you go.”

“Oh. Um. I was just gonna say that you should take a shower right away. It’s, uh,” Seungyoun glances Wooseok up and down, “you might get sick.” And for some unknown reasons, he immediately looks away, cheeks turning visibly pink under the overhead lights of the hallway.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah. That’s—thank you.”

What are they? A shopkeeper being paid to follow customers around and a customer not looking to buy anything? Seungyoun tries keying in the door code. It takes him three times to get it right.

Feeling the silence from before sinking back in, Wooseok jumps at the first thought that comes to mind, “why did you dress up today?” Wooseok tosses his chin in Seungyoun’s direction, pretends to look Seungyoun up and down as if he weren’t checking him out the whole walk back.

“Oh, this?” Seungyoun asks stiltedly, motioning at his (now dirty) white shirt tucked in black slacks and gelled back hair. “Zico hyung and I recorded the music video for our rap collaboration today.”

Ah, Zico hyung. Zico hyung who dated Seungyoun and is still clearly in love with him. That Zico hyung.

As a (mostly) good friend, Wooseok _could_ express an interest in Seungyoun’s collaboration project but he doesn’t, “that’s cool. And then did you forget something at school?”

“Huh? Oh,” Seungyoun clears his throat, “no not really.”

It takes Wooseok a second to decode what that means in his head. Seungyoun didn’t have any reason to come back to campus. Didn’t need to go all the way there with an umbrella right after shooting a music video. Seungyoun must have seen Wooseok’s text letting him know that he would be waiting at the soccer field like an idiot. Seungyoun greeted Kim Wooseok, who was as good as dying, in the rain with an umbrella and walked him to shelter.

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Yeah, it started raining and… I was worried.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Wooseok has zero Game Plan. Nothing. At some point, Wooseok should bring up The Crush (and subsequently, his response to said crush). No, is it weird to bring up Seungyoun’s crush all by himself? What if Seungyoun had moved on from him already? Wooseok can feel himself tearing up again at that thought.

As soon as they get inside, Seungyoun disappears into his bedroom for a little bit, leaving Wooseok drenched and dripping in the middle of his living room. A dark spot begins to form where he stands on the cream-colored carpet. Wooseok stays rooted to his spot, shoulders hitching up to take up as little space as possible.

Seungyoun returns with a fluffy towel and a set of pajamas, “Here you go. You left these here the last time you slept over.”

For some god damn reasons, Wooseok blushes at that. Frankly, all the blushing Wooseok has been doing around Seungyoun has gotten ridiculous. They’ve been best friends for years. Wooseok stays over all the time. Why the hell is he blushing? A small voice in his head explains that with the knowledge of Seungyoun’s feelings for him (and perhaps his feelings too) tangible and raw, the very idea of Wooseok sleeping over, in Seungyoun’s bed, with Seungyoun breathing evenly next to him, now suddenly has a different _tone._

“Thank you.” Wooseok hopes that the light is dim enough for Seungyoun to not notice his blush. 

“Are you feeling sick already? You look a little red.”

Before his body can show any other incriminating reaction, Wooseok snatches the pajamas and towel from Seungyoun’s hand. “Nope. Feeling fine. I’ll shower now, thanks.”

Wooseok tells himself that the shivers he feels are merely due to the wet clothes clinging to his skin and not at all due to the way Seungyoun’s white shirt has become semi-transparent in all the right places.

💌

In the shower, Wooseok turns the water on a tad bit hotter today. He closes his eyes and lets the water wash away all his tension.

When he dries himself off and inspects the pajamas Seungyoun handed him, he couldn’t help but notice that his familiar plaid pajamas now smell of Seungyoun’s fabric softener. Unconsciously, he brings them close to his face and breaths in the lilac scent. Wooseok has to bite his lower lip to keep a whimper in.

He catches himself in the mirror and frowns. There he is, stark naked, clinging onto a pair of pajamas, face a deep shade of pink. He looks at his own reflection, taking it in. Wooseok knows the look on his face. He might have a million issues that make him lash out at anyone who tries to love him, but he is not stupid. He’s seen that look on screen before, on the faces of people he wrote letters for.

Perhaps it is a huge improvement that Wooseok has now come to terms with his feelings for Seungyoun. A different kind of fear rises in his chest. Does Seungyoun still feel the same way he did a few weeks ago? Before he found out that Wooseok was a lying, manipulative prick? He never knew what Seungyoun saw in him in the first place.

Wooseok takes a deep breath and decides that he can’t tell Seungyoun how to feel and who to love. If Seungyoun still loves him at all, his job is to learn to accept it. And to love Seungyoun the way he deserves to be loved.

💌

“Feeling better? Do you wanna order food? Chicken feet maybe? The rain is not gonna let up any time soon.” When Wooseok gets out of the shower, Seungyoun has changed out of his dirty clothes and is greeting him with a steaming cup of lemon ginger tea, a spot on the sofa with a neatly folded blanket within hand’s reach, and a puppy dog look on his face. Wooseok can almost see Seungyoun’s wagging tail as he perks up at him, eager to please. “Do you want to put something on? Wanna watch Netflix?”

“One question at a time, please.” Wooseok is so _endeared_ it’s ridiculous.

Seungyoun flusters, “oh sorry uhhh…” Wooseok has never seen Seungyoun that uncomfortable in his entire life. He literally is pacing within a 1 metre radius in his own living room, hands opening and closing to work off the excess energy.

Wooseok hates that they are being awkward around each other. Seungyoun has never treated Wooseok like a guest that needs attending to before. That doesn’t mean that Seungyoun doesn’t take care of Wooseok per se, but that Seungyoun has always felt secure enough in their friendship to trust Wooseok to voice his needs and vice versa.

“Yeah, let’s watch something.”

“What are you in the mood for? _Law & Order _ ? _Annabelle_? A 90s rom com? That new drama with Kim Soohyun?”

“Oh, sorry I’ve finished bingeing the one with Kim Soohyun.” What can he say? Wooseok was wrapped up in a blanket burrito in his apartment for days. He needed some good ol K-drama comfort. (Although, watching people falling in love while feeling heartbroken over Seungyoun might have made him cry even harder.)

“What the fuck? I thought we said we’d watch it together?”

“Oh, honey… you couldn’t possibly expect me to resist Soohyun hyung? His six packs called out to me and I had to answer.”

“I can’t believe you. I really fucking can’t.” Seungyoun scoffs, holding his neck comically to convey the _pain_ Wooseok is causing him.

“Sorry~ You should actually be grateful that I’m not spoiling the drama for you right fucking now.”

How Seungyoun managed to _not_ major in Drama is beyond Wooseok, “choosing Kim Soohyun over me? Over me?? After all that we’ve been through? No one loves you like I do and you know it."

_Wait._

“I—”

“Uh,”

“…”

It’s awful how quick the friendly banter dissolves between them. If the previous moment gave Wooseok any hope that they could go back to being best friends _without_ addressing the elephant in the room, then the hope was all too short-lived, disappearing before Wooseok could even make sense of it.

“So, I guess,” Seungyoun is looking out at the rain, only his side profile visible from where Wooseok is standing. “Before you say anything… and I understand that you might have a lot to say, given how you’ve blown up my phone these past few days, let me just,” he swallows and Wooseok is fixed looking at the way Seungyoun’s Adam’s apple bobs, “I thought a lot about that day… and about our friendship, in general.”

The gears in Wooseok’s mind start to turn and he knows that his instinct is calling him to take control of this situation, to run away from the overwhelming waves of feelings that Seungyoun provokes in him.

His fingernails are digging into his palms, hard enough to draw blood. He tells himself to breathe, to really _listen_ to what Seungyoun is saying because Seungyoun deserves it. He needs to stay in the feelings and be honest with himself.

“I… what you did was very hurtful. You knew how I felt yet you decided to disregard my feelings and went behind my back. It… made me feel silly, and pathetic, and small.”

“I’m sorry.”

“And since… since I never got to confess to you, properly,” Seungyoun hesitates. Wooseok can see the way Seungyoun’s shoulders jut up in tension. “Wooseok-ah, I’m in love with you, for as long as I can remember.”

“Seungyoun,” he tries to breathe through his nose, to gather his wits somewhat so he can at least muster up coherent sentences. “I’m scared,” his admission echoes soundly in Seungyoun’s apartment. Wooseok continues, “I can’t lose you. I really can’t. I feel like, I can’t ‘go for it’ or ‘be brave’ or whatever because I literally _can’t_ take the risk. I can’t risk losing you. I just, I don’t know what I’m going to do if whatever this is between us ruins what we have.”

“Wooseok, I’m not telling you this to pressure you in any way. This doesn’t have to change anything between us if you don’t want it to. We can be anything you want.”

“I…”

Wooseok can’t find it in him to finish what he wants to say. Because deep down, he knows what he wants. He is in love with Seungyoun and he wants to tell Seungyoun that. He doesn’t know what that means for their relationship and the prospects of change terrify him.

“I… have a lot of fears, okay? I know I’m a coward and I know I hurt you. But I just… want everything between us to… remain? I just want us to be okay. What if, what if we date and things go wrong? And we end up hating each other? What if dating poisons what we have?”

“Wooseok, I…” Seungyoun is tearing up now and that lets him know that this is just as terrifying to the taller boy. “I can’t promise you that everything will be fine. Because I don’t know that. I’m scared too.” Seungyoun’s whole frame is shaking. Seeing Seungyoun cry _physically_ pains him. The boy looks so small and vulnerable in his grey t-shirt and Wooseok just wants to wrap him in a hug.

So he does. Wooseok stands in front of Seungyoun, on his tiptoes, wiping the tears from Seungyoun’s face and patting his head comfortingly.

Eventually, Seungyoun’s tears lighten up. Wooseok is suddenly hyper-aware of their distance. He debates whether he should take a few steps back because being this close to Seungyoun is making it a little hard to breathe.

As if reading his mind, Seungyoun reaches out for his hand, fixing him in place.

“Wooseok,” Seungyoun is looking down at him with his pleading red-rimmed eyes, lips still quivering, “I just need you to trust me. That’s all I ask. Be honest with me. And with yourself.”

What is Wooseok supposed to do? Say no?

“Okay,” he lets out softly, careful not to move even an inch because he can’t decide whether he wants to move _away_ from or _towards_ Seungyoun.

Seungyoun’s pupils are darting, scanning Wooseok’s every response however small, “Wooseok, be honest with me.”

“Okay.”

“Do you find me attractive?”

Wooseok thinks his mind has stopped working. Words don’t seem to come to him.

His face twitches almost imperceptibly but it seems that Seungyoun catches that too. Seungyoun leans even closer, they are so so close now. Wooseok can feel Seungyoun’s warm breath on his face.

“And don’t lie. Not to me. Not to yourself. Be honest, do you find me attractive?”

Seungyoun is doing a fairly good job at concealing how desperate he is. The urge to deny, to respond with disbelief or even sarcasm is at the tip of Wooseok’s tongue.

But instead, he surrenders, “yes.”

Seungyoun’s brows seem to relax at that. The corners of his mouth lift slightly. He moves even closer so that Wooseok has to tip his head back to maintain eye contact.

“What are you feeling right now?”

“What, I—”

“Don’t think too much. Just verbalize exactly what you feel.” Seungyoun smirks, “paint a picture for me, baby.”

Wooseok thinks he is melting. He can’t move at all for fear he’ll literally scream at the floor like a mad man. Seungyoun is being flirty but not in a mean way. He is nudging at Wooseok’s boundaries in a way that challenges him to really do an inventory of what he desires.

“My heart is beating very fast. I’m feeling—” his mouth feels ridiculously dry, “overwhelmed.”

“What else?” Seungyoun inches closer and Wooseok hopes he hadn’t imagined Seungyoun flicking his eyes down towards his lips, shiny and swollen from all the nervous biting he’s done.

“I can feel your warm breath. It—I’m breathing you in.” Wooseok’s nails dig into his arm, leaving marks, “and I like that.”

Seungyoun places his hand flat against Wooseok’s back, smoothing out each knot of tension.

Wooseok’s breath hitches and he lets out a whimper. Wooseok doesn’t know why but he feels tears threatening to escape again. A tidal wave inches up his throat, creeping stealthily, overpowering him bit by bit. Wooseok feels completely overcome.

“You’re okay, baby. You’re okay.” Seungyoun somehow knows all the right things to say. Wooseok bares his emotions for Seungyoun to see, they are in the palm of Seungyoun’s hand for him to do as he will.

And perhaps in Seungyoun’s hand, they are safe. Wooseok is safe.

“This doesn’t change anything. I’m still me, I’ve always seen you, I see you now, and I want all of you.”

“Seungyounie.” Wooseok is tethering on the edge. Seungyoun’s hand rubs up and down his back, comforting him in the most patient, most unassuming way possible.

“Wooseok, see me, please, I’m here.” It is still that pleading look in Seungyoun’s eyes. Wooseok realizes that he isn’t the only one on the edge, baring everything, putting it all on the line.

“I do. I do.”

“Then tell me, what are you thinking? What do you want?”

“I—” fear is rising in his stomach and Wooseok shoves it back down with all his might. He knows what he wants. Seungyoun is so close and he can almost _taste_ Seungyoun. He wants to taste Seungyoun. He wants every inch of Seungyoun’s body on him and he wants to show Seungyoun just how much love he feels.

He needs to say it. He needs Seungyoun to know. If not for himself then for Seungyoun. Because Seungyoun is here and he is asking Wooseok to see him. Seungyoun is the best thing that ever happened to him. And Wooseok may think that he is undeserving of love, but he refuses to let his insecurity destroy Seungyoun. 

“I want you.” Wooseok chokes out a sob. It is an ugly sound and Wooseok is embarrassed. But before Wooseok can let himself overthink how _vulnerable_ this moment is, Seungyoun pulls Wooseok in by the waist.

And that is all Wooseok needs to press his lips against Seungyoun’s. He has been desperate for this much longer than he realized. He is eager to explore every part of Seungyoun, to tease out every response, every whimper. He loops his arms around Seungyoun’s neck and they stumble across the living room, Seungyoun hitting the sofa first, Wooseok climbing to sit on his lap.

He is fully seated on top of Seungyoun now, his mouth hangs open, reveling in how _right_ this moment feels.

Seungyoun breathes frantically, greedy hands gripping hard enough to leave bruises. Wooseok moans loudly at that. Seungyoun's mouth finds his and he opens his mouth readily to let Seungyoun in. He blushes thinking about how addicting the taste of Seungyoun's tongue is. Wooseok alternates between biting the boy's lips and swiping his tongue across them in apology. Seungyoun moans desperately under his ministrations. He feels wanted. He feels wanted by Seungyoun. And that thought leaves him reeling.

“I—uh, hold on.” Seungyoun breaks the kiss, moving his face away to nuzzle at Wooseok’s neck. Seungyoun shivers in his embrace. Both of their hearts are beating so fast and they cling onto each other, feeling the mismatched drumming beneath heated skins.

“If we don’t stop now, we’re gonna have an issue.”

Wooseok swoons at the implication, a big smile blooms on his face. A part of him wants to ask Seungyoun to keep going, to see where it takes them. But he knows that Seungyoun is being cautious more for Wooseok’s sake than anything.

So, they lay there on the sofa, every part of their bodies pressing together. Seungyoun burrows his face a little closer to Wooseok’s neck and in turn, the smaller man wraps his arms a little tighter around Seungyoun.

“Thank you for trusting me.” Seungyoun whispers. “Thank you for trusting yourself.”

Wooseok keens at the praise.

“Thank _you_ for being patient.”

Seungyoun giggles into his skin, a deep rumbling spreads through their bodies.

“How are you feeling, Wooseokie?”

“I’m… happy,” he feels shy at how terribly _giddy_ he’s being.

“Me too…”

“Seungyoun-ah,” even though Wooseok feels the lightest in _days_ , he still can’t help his doubts. “This, whatever it is we’re doing, is gonna be completely new territory for me.”

“I know, sweetheart.”

“And—I’m going to try. I really am.”

“I know.”

“Becauseyoureworthit.”

Seungyoun giggles, “I’m sorry, what did you say?"

Wooseok just whines and hides his head on the sofa. Seungyoun cackles, “yeah, I know I’m worth it too, babe.”

“You’re so fucking irritating.”

And that only makes Seungyoun laugh harder. Like he hasn’t laughed in days. And maybe he hasn’t. Maybe Wooseok wasn’t the only one living through the worst hell of his life since their fall out at the train station.

“So… chicken feet for dinner?”

Wooseok makes a face at Seungyoun, “seriously, I love you so much.”

“So _that’s_ what it took? _That’s_ what I should have said this entire time?”

The small boy breaks out in giggles, punching weakly at Seungyoun’s chest. Seungyoun’s chest feels sturdy and Wooseok is overcome with a desire to kiss Seungyoun again. So he does.

Wooseok loves being able to lean in for a kiss and watch the way Seungyoun closes his eyes in anticipation, the way Seungyoun blushes prettily when they break, gazing at Wooseok with wonder. He loves how Seungyoun’s soft voice gets even softer and the boy speaks in perpetual aegyo, like he can’t help himself, like Wooseok makes him whiny and weak all the time.

Wooseok still doesn’t know what this means for them. But for the first time, he isn’t concerned about labels. He isn’t concerned about controlling how their relationship pans out.

Wooseok is happy and he wants to keep chasing after the feeling.

They don’t get up for a long time. 

Thank god for 24/7 chicken feet delivery service.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading. If you enjoyed it, please pleaseeee leave a comment! 🥺 I love hearing from people. ♡ Feel free to come say hi on twitter or cc (@purplepastiche1) too!


End file.
